Don't Call Me Baby
by shiva
Summary: When domesticity leaves her feeling cold, Sarah embarks on a new adventure Underground.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: It's been years since I've written FF, but this idea popped in and refused to let go. Just a fun little romance plot. Also an attempt to brush up on my writing. So it should improve as I go along ;)

Disclaimer: None of this is mine, except for a few minor characters. Do not be deceived.

oOoOoOoOo

Sarah felt a small tug of nausea when the door clicked open.

"Hey babe, I'm home early!" The tall blond in jeans and a button down poked his head in Sarah's office, leaning down to kiss her quickly.

"Owen, I thought you had a 5 o'clock meeting?" she asked, trying not to let the disappointment show in her voice.

"They rescheduled. Figured I'd grill up some salmon for us? Maybe mix you a quick martini?" Owen winked at her and she felt the all too familiar guilt.

"Sounds great, babe. I've got a few more hours to put in here; a drink would be nice." Sarah waited until she heard cabinets opening in the kitchen before letting out a sigh. Owen was a great guy. _They've all been great guys_ she mentally admonished herself. _So what the hell is wrong with me?_

oOoOoOoOo

Sarah felt she'd found a healthy balance after her adventure in the Labyrinth. She looked after Toby, learned to adapt to her stepmother, but didn't allow their schedule to dominate her life. She kept in touch with her friends, maintaining the magic in her life that she still needed, but learning to look for adventure in her own world as well.

That was what drew her to professional research. In college she had a great time studying history, literature, even trying her hand at writing with a Creative Writing minor. What she found she loved the most about writing papers was the research, piecing together a tapestry of information. It seemed a natural conclusion to get her masters in Library & Information Science. She spent an internship working as a Children's Librarian, but it wasn't challenging enough for her. After earning her degree Sarah tried her hand at professional research and after a solid two years of hard work she had earned serious acclaim as a "hacker." By 26 she was flying all over the world, meeting clients and taking on whatever jobs suited her fancy. Part of her acclaim came from her ability to learn and synthesize information almost immediately. After all, she told clients, I don't have to know everything; I know how to find it.

Work was fun, exciting, and challenging. Men, on the other hand, had just been a challenge. Sarah had cycled through boyfriend after boyfriend. It always started the same: That initial thrill when you can't wait to see them, then the height of being "in love" when the sex is amazing and you can't imagine being without them. It could last for several months, sometimes a year or more, but then it always ended the same. Everything would be fine and then one day she would start to feel anxious when they called. She would spend more and more time alone until finally she broke it off. This trend continued for years until one Sunday when she and Owen were enjoying brunch at her parents' house.

"Sarah, how long have you been with Owen now?" Karen asked as they washed dishes.

"Oh, um, about 5 months now." Sarah said.

"Hmmm…and how much longer before you run away from this one?"

Sarah put the plate back in the sink so she wouldn't be tempted to throw it. "Not cool, Karen. You know I'm not ready to settle down. I'm too young anyway."

"Sarah, you're not that young anymore. I mean, you're closer to 30 than 25. I know how much your work means to you, but don't let your youth slip by and find you've pushed everyone away from you." Karen looked askance at her stepdaughter, waiting for an outburst. However, Sarah was gazing at the wall, her expression thoughtful.

It was shortly after that conversation that Owen suggested they move in together. Sarah, 28 years old and still in the height of "the sex is good and I want to be with him always" phase decided to throw caution to the wind and go for it. They found a cute 3 bedroom cottage to rent. Sarah had her own office, a large desk that was constantly covered in paperwork and her trusty laptop. The walls were lined with bookcases with the exception of the far wall where Sarah mounted her childhood vanity mirror. Owen thought it oddly charming.

As for Owen, he was 34, tall and blond (like all of her boyfriends, Karen pointed out) and wonderful. He was an amazing cook, self-taught, and loved literature as much as she did. He was an architect, flying all across the country handling projects. He respected her space, but thanks to both their flexible schedules, was often able to travel with her and vice versa. Sarah knew that the two of them together made sense to anyone looking on the relationship. Living together should have been an easy, natural next step.

It was an unmitigated disaster.


	2. Chapter 2

Sarah waved at the car backing out of the driveway, trying to look sad with one hand clutching her stomach. As soon as the car turned the corner she shut the door, leaned back against it and reveled in the silence of the house. Letting out the breath she didn't even realize she was holding in, she walked to the vanity mirror in her office.

"Hoggle, Ludo, Sir Didymus? I need you all." She said. In a moment, all three friends appeared in the room behind her and Sarah felt a genuine smile for the first time that day.

"My Lady, I thought thou'st were away with Sir Owen?" Didymus asked, glancing around the room to assure himself they were indeed alone.

"Uh, yeah, about that…I told him I've got the stomach flu at the last minute." Sarah said, at least having the decency to look at the floor while she grinned. Her friends glanced at each other but didn't say anything. It didn't matter; she caught the looks they were giving.

"Oh, come on guys! I feel like we never get to hang out now that I live with Owen! I knew if I waited 'til the last minute he couldn't stay and take care of me and I could get some alone time. It's only 4 days." she said.

"Ludo miss Sawah" Ludo grinned, placing one giant paw on her shoulder. Sarah grinned up at him, wrapping her arms around the giant yeti. "Thanks Ludo! I missed you too!"

"Now, don't go actin' like we don't miss ya, Sarah. We's just…um…concerned is all." Hoggle said, patting her hand.

"My Lady, you have not…suffered at the hand of Sir Owen, hast thou?" Sir Didymus asked.

Sarah rolled her eyes. "No, no, Owen is a gallant man, Didymus. Perhaps too gallant. He would never hurt me, he's just…" she trailed off, running her hands through her hair as she sought for an explanation. When nothing came to mind she slumped in a chair. "God, I'm an asshole." she muttered.

"Aw, cor, we don't want ya feelin' bad!" Hoggle interrupted her musings, "Let me tell ya about what's goin' on Underground!"

Sarah brightened considerably and the friends dropped the subject of Owen while they caught her up on the latest happenings in the Labyrinth.

oOoOoOoOo

Jareth felt the slight tug at the back of his mind that meant a portal was being used. Sarah's "friends," no doubt. Since moving in with that boy he had stopped watching her, never trusting that he wouldn't encounter a scene he did not want to see. However, when she called her friends she was guaranteed to be alone. Smiling to himself, he conjured a crystal, reveling in the sight of her.

Before he could get too entranced, though, a large goblin cleared his throat, bringing a sharp glare from Jareth.

"Sire, a visitor." Not much for words when faced with the King's fickle moods, the goblin gave a short bow and quickly scuttled off. Jareth glanced up to see a messenger he almost recognized. Searching his mind for a name, he called out, "Andreas, isn't it?"

The man bowed low, "Yes sire. I bring a message from Lord Kristoff of the Western Plains." At Jareth's nod Andreas rose and offered the missive to him. Snapping through the official seal and reading over the letter, Jareth briefly frowned at the message before schooling his features back to an indifferent mask.

"Do you know what this letter pertains to, Andreas?" he asked casually.

"No my Lord. I was, however, instructed to await your reply." Andreas said.

Jareth paused before conjuring a crystal. "Please tell Lord Kristoff that I shall have to look into this matter fully before making a decision. I will meet with him in a fortnight to finalize arrangements." He tossed the crystal to Andreas. As he caught it, the crystal became a sealed envelope. Bowing low once more, Andreas left Jareth to his silent musings.

Although he knew he should investigate the matter immediately, he couldn't help but pull up another crystal, watching Sarah and her friends gossip. He found it interesting that she had stayed behind when he knew how much she loved to travel. _Perhaps it is the traveling partner that's the problem_ he thought. Four days alone assured him opportunities to "check in" on her safely. Glancing at the cluttered desk behind her, his mind suddenly latched on to a totally new possibility. Grinning openly now, Jareth banished the crystal and headed toward his library. There was planning to do.


	3. Chapter 3

Her friends were leaving with their traditional, "Should you need us…" when Hoggle turned and grabbed her hand. "Sarah, just…don't feel you haf'ta stay to make someone else happy." before he stepped through the glass and Sarah was left alone in her office. As bittersweet as it always was to see her friends leave, knowing the house was all hers for another 3 days was too much a relief.

"Yes, no need to play the heroine all the time, you know." The voice behind her carried the smirk she couldn't see yet, and it still made her suck her breath in between her teeth. Turning slowly, she saw the Goblin King in all his glory. Dressed in the same black armor and swirling cape from their confrontation 13 years ago, his arms crossed and head tilted as if no time had passed.

"Hmmm, well, I didn't wish anyone away, so there's no one for me to champion…therefore, there must be some other reason why you've chosen to show up 13 years later." she answered. She grinned up at him, tilting her chin in defiance.

Jareth's eyes flashed with something she could almost identify before he began circling her. "I see the last 13 years have been more than kind," he said, his eyes raking over her, "and it seems you've learned some measure of patience. How charming." Jareth wished briefly that he had his riding crop. Her chilly, confident reception left him itching to swat at her legs as he stalked around her.

"Well I learned a very valuable lesson at 15," she said, turning and appraising him as unabashedly as he had done to her.

"Hmm?" he asked, looking as disinterested as possible.

"Yes, it was all about the power of words and, more importantly, who holds power over whom." As Sarah spit out the word "power" Jareth's eyes shot up to meet hers. He was grinning, but there were flames dancing behind his eyes.

"Be that as it may, I'm here to offer you an opportunity to repay me for all my generosity."

Sarah rolled her eyes. "Uh-huh, I've heard this one before in case you forgot. But please, tell me more about this opportunity. Does it involve a timeshare? Will I get a free weekend in your castle if I sit through a 45 minute presentation?"

"How about your friends get a free visit to the Bog if you don't curb that sarcasm?" Jareth smiled sweetly at her, as if he were offering her flowers instead of threats. Sarah's back stiffened and her mouth pursed into a thin white line.

"Ah! I see you understand! Just because I hold no power over you does not mean my power has diminished in other ways." He winked at her before sauntering over to one of her office chairs and sitting in it as regally is if it were a throne. Sarah crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him silently, waiting for him to continue.

"That's better. Now sit, sit! That's no way for old friends to catch up." he waved his hand to the seat next to him. Sarah dragged her body towards it and sat on the edge of the seat. She thought about ignoring him completely, but knew her friends would suffer for it. Instead, she met his stare in silence.

Jareth watched her for another moment, waiting to see if she would say anything. When the silence dragged on he sighed a little before telling her, "It has come to my attention that you are a person who can…find things. I believe the term I've heard is 'hacker.'" Sarah's expression changed to open curiosity. Taking that as a good sign, he continued, "I wish to hire you on for a job. Your food, lodging, etcetera will all be provided for, and naturally you will be compensated in the amount of your choosing."

Sarah was dumbstruck. He wanted to offer her a job? "And why should I do this, exactly?"

"Because for the last 13 years I have allowed your friends to use magic portals to come visit you at your every whim. Because for 13 years in which you only called to them, with no concern as to the how's and why's, I have still denied you nothing!" Jareth leaned towards her, his hand reaching out as if to grab her collar before pausing in mid-air. Although he was forcing a smile, she could see his jaw clenching.

The tension in the air was close to suffocating. Sarah looked at him, thinking quickly as to how to diffuse the situation. After a brief pause she said, "Yes, that was generous." When she saw the tension in his jaw loosen she straightened her back and continued. "Before I take on any job I like to ask some questions. First off, do you have a wireless connection?"

Jareth actually curled his lip in distaste at the laptop on her desk. "We do not. Do you really need that wretched thing?"

Sarah let out a small giggle at his reaction to the technology. "You know, people pay good money for that little machine. But no, I'm perfectly capable of working without it. I wouldn't be any good at my job otherwise. However, will my tape recorder work? I dictate as I go and it will be incredibly slow going if I have to take notes by hand."

"You will be given a secretary for dictation." he waved his hand, dismissing the small device.

Sarah rose from her chair and began pacing, speaking more to herself while ticking items off on her fingers. "Ok, no technology, fine. I'll need notebooks, pencils, sticky notes, gloves, onion paper…" Jareth watched her process with interest. Finally, she turned to face him. "Brass tacks now: When do you need me to start and when do you need this completed?"

"I need you to start today and the information must all be compiled and ready to present in a fortnight." Jareth said.

Nodding, Sarah began jotting his answers down on a little notepad she seemed to have produced from the air. "You don't have to pay me since this is a quid pro quo, but I do need certain assurances from you."

"Such as?"

"First, that this is not some trick and I will be returned home when the job is finished. Second, that my friends will not be harmed in any way, whether you like what I find or not. Third…that I can continue to see them based upon a schedule we agree upon." Sarah held her breath at the last condition, waiting to see if he got angry again.

Jareth, for his part, was both stunned and a little amused. His clever Sarah was offering a compromise? "To answer your questions in order: No, this is not some trick. I will return you to your _happy home_ whenever you wish. Furthermore, I have never harmed your friends, even after the gross betrayal of their sovereign. I certainly see no reason to start now. And finally…yes, we will coordinate to find a schedule and consider that your payment." Satisfied by the small smile on her face, he stood to go. "Come now, let me show you where you'll be working."

"Jareth, I work fast, but give a girl a minute to collect her stuff, will you? I'll be back in ten minutes." And with that, Sarah walked out of her office without another word, presumably to pack. Jareth took the time to wander through her office, scanning the titles on the shelf. This was clearly Sarah's room. He couldn't smell any traces of that man in here. The books covered a breadth of topics, not surprising, considering her work. The art on the walls were a collection of pen and ink drawings, mostly various geometric designs. While not as intricate as the M.C. Escher posters from her youth, they were beautiful in their clean lines and organization. The only photos he found were of her family or places she'd been in her travels. Again, no Owen. He smiled to himself when he heard footsteps warning of her approach.

Sarah carried a small duffel bag over one shoulder and a second, square-shaped bag that she began filling with items from her desk. Once she zipped the second bag up, she turned and smiled. "All set. Let's go!"

Jareth looked her over before turning to the paintings on the wall. "These are quite lovely. Did you draw these yourself?"

Sarah shrugged, "Oh, yeah. I tried my hand at some art classes for awhile. I liked them and didn't want to just leave them in a drawer somewhere."

"Hmm, I appreciate the designs. It…reminds me of something." he tapped his finger against his lips, as if he were trying to remember something, but the look in his eye told her he knew exactly what inspired them. Sarah blushed but didn't say anything.

"Well, I suppose that's it then? You're ready to go?" he asked.

Grateful for the change in subject, Sarah nodded quickly.

"Oh, so…it won't be a problem for the man you live with, who believes you are sick, if you suddenly disappear for 2 weeks?" Jareth asked, his tone neutral. Sarah's eyes widened.

"Oh shit! I completely forgot about Owen. Damn. He's going to call and I can't just say I'm leaving town when I played the sick card." she looked stricken before closing her eyes and schooling her features. "I'm just going to call him for a minute; it's the right thing to do."

"Or…" he interrupted her, "you could leave a note?"

She paused for the briefest of moments when the path of least resistance won out. Grabbing a pen and notepad from her desk, she scribbled out something quickly, tossed it back on the desk and said, "Let's go!"


	4. Chapter 4

They appeared in the center of the throne room. It seemed 13 years hadn't changed much – it was as cacophonous as ever between the chickens running amok and the drunken goblins cackling from every perceivable corner. Jareth rolled his eyes briefly as he surveyed the damage. He thought about informing her it had NOT looked like this when he left twenty minutes ago, then thought better of it. After all, she would learn on her own the damage unsupervised goblins could inflict soon enough.

As there did not appear to be a single sober goblin in the crowd, Jareth took her duffel bag and swung it over his own shoulder. Indicating an archway to the right he took her elbow and began leading her away from the chaos. Sarah took everything in wide-eyed and silent. Watching her profile, he could almost see her cataloging everything in her head. It was only when they reached the large wooden door to the library that she returned her gaze to him.

"I'll admit, I have a hard time imagining what this library of yours looks like after the throne room." she said.

Without a word, Jareth opened the door to reveal an immense room in impeccable order. Sarah stepped in to see that the room extended to the right for what seemed like miles. At the head of the room was a massive desk, almost as cluttered as her own, she noted. There were deep leather reading chairs against the far wall, but to the right the stacks began. A center aisle cut through the rows upon rows of shelves that stuck out perpendicular to the walls. She twirled once, taking everything in, before letting out a breathy "Wow."

"The goblins aren't allowed in here, for reasons you can guess." Jareth said. Sarah turned to him, almost as if she had forgotten he was there.

"I'm going to guess that you don't use the LC system to catalog here. Any chance you use the Dewey Decimal system?" she asked.

"Ugh, that stuck up old codger? Please! Did you know he didn't even have a qualification for our history books? Said we'd have to fit in the 00's because there was no room?" Jareth waved his hands over the books, his tone of disgust evident.

"Wait, you mean you knew Melville Dewey?" Sarah asked, quirking an eyebrow at him in disbelief.

"Of course! I take great pride in this library; when this human developed his organizational system I offered him a job cataloging it. Man wouldn't even touch it." Jareth told her.

Sarah shrugged her shoulders. After all, stranger things had happened. She couldn't imagine Melville Dewey accepting an invitation to the Underground, though. "How…how did you convince him to come?"

"He thought we were in France." Jareth's lip curled in distaste. When Sarah immediately burst out laughing his mood did not improve. "We can't just start whisking humans down here, you know. There is a reason we exist mostly in fairy tales and legends."

Sarah tried, with minimal success, to stop laughing. Between giggles she said, "No…no, I'm not laughing at YOU…I just…imagining his face… did he even bother to note that the texts weren't in French?"

"Actually, no, he didn't. Hmm, probably should have been my first clue not to rely on him." Since Sarah seemed to have gotten herself under control, he pointed to the ranges on the left side of the room. "Those texts are organized by subject, much like your Dewey Decimal system. Art, literature, philosophy and the like. The shelves on the right are in chronological order, detailing the history of the Underground."

Sarah blanched briefly at the rows upon rows. She knew that the Underground must predate her own world, but to what extent? Two weeks didn't seem nearly long enough. However, she was a professional and there was more at stake in this little bargain than just her pride. Turning back to Jareth and pulling out her trusty little notebook, she asked, "Ok, so now you need to tell me what it is I'm looking for."

"Ever the tireless worker, I see. I wonder how that affects your relationship with Owen." his head tilted to one side, he saw his question hit the mark squarely. Sarah's face shut down as if a steel wall had crashed down. Her eyes were cold when she answered him.

"I'm here on your dime, so to speak. You can waste time throwing barbs at my personal life, which is none of your business, or you can let me do my job."

"Very well. There is a province to the west of the Labyrinth that borders another land. It is an industrious little province, providing ale, precious metals, not to mention the tax base. Over the centuries, the land has been deeded, gifted, and traded back and forth between the Labyrinth and the kingdom of Western Plains. It has never once been a source of contention. Now, apropos of nothing, Lord Kristoff is claiming not only that the land is his but that he is owed something like 150 years' worth of back-owed taxes."

Sarah rolled her eyes. Politics. Gods help her. "So you need me to create a timeline tracing who owned this province when, so you can figure out who actually holds the deed on this place?"

"Well that, certainly, but there is more…Kristoff knows as well as I that this land would be back in his care eventually. In fact, his eldest son has reached marrying age; he knows this would be the logical wedding gift from my kingdom. I want to know why he's in such a rush to reclaim the province."

Ah, political intrigue. At least that was slightly more interesting. Sarah finished jotting down her notes, nodding along as Jareth spoke to indicate she understood. Satisfied with the parameters of her work, she tucked the little notebook back in her pocket before sticking out her hand to Jareth. "Got it. I will have this ready for you in time for your meeting."

Jareth stared at her proffered hand curiously before he realized what she intended. Smiling, he grabbed her fingertips, leaning over to kiss her hand. "While you are here, you should know that a gentleman would never treat a lady's hand so barbarously as to shake it." Sarah flushed, but said nothing. His lips had barely whispered over her skin but she was certain she could feel a tingle up her entire arm. Releasing her hand he asked her, "You are not at all overwhelmed by the task at hand?"

Sarah winked at him, "Don't worry, Jareth. It'll be a piece of cake."


	5. Chapter 5

Jareth's eyes darkened at her comment, glinting dangerously as his lips pulled back in a feral smile. Sarah had a moment to wonder if her flippant comment had gotten her in real trouble when, without a word, Jareth charged at her. In a movement so swift she couldn't even react, he picked her up bridal-style and continued charging towards the wall. Sarah shrieked and buried her head against his shoulder, bracing herself to be crushed between the stone wall and Jareth's hard chest. She felt the rush of wind against her scalp and then she was falling – Jareth had unceremoniously tossed her onto…a couch?

Flushed, her breath erratic, Sarah glanced around to make sure she wasn't in a dungeon somewhere before yelling, "What the FUCK was that?"

Jareth, for his part, leaned nonchalantly against the side of the couch, straightening his gloves. "My dear, that is the second time in our acquaintance that you have been casually dismissive about my kingdom. I was hoping to frighten the hell out of you."

Sarah paused, ran her hands through her windswept hair and actually let out a short burst of laughter. "You're a bastard, you know that? It worked though; I think that startled me more than the Cleaners did!" With as much grace as a lady who has been dumped onto a couch can muster, Sarah rose to her full height and turned towards him.

"I'm not being dismissive, Goblin King. I am a woman who knows exactly what she is capable of and I see no reason to pretend otherwise. And, if you'll recall, I wasn't being over-confident the last time, either." She smirked up at him, standing nearly toe-to-toe with the king who was observing her with mild amusement.

"And just how much are you capable of, Sarah, hmmm?" Jareth leaned down to her ear, letting his breath whisper over her, "I would love for you to enlighten me."

Not to be outdone, Sarah traced her hand along his collar, never touching skin, but tugging him closer to her all the same before she whispered, "Oh Jareth, I don't waste my time with amateurs." She gave him a quick wink as she stepped away to admire the room she was in.

The room was lovely and she was certain it was intended as her quarters. Seeing her duffel back resting at the end of the large bed confirmed her suspicions. Aside from the usual bedroom amenities she noticed a draftsman-style desk. Sarah frowned, reminded of Owen's desk back home. She told herself again this was just a job, like any other that took her out of town. She shouldn't feel guilty for needing a little time away.

"Thinking of someone?" Jareth asked. Sarah turned to find him leaning against the doorway, a small smirk playing on his lips.

"Just wondering how to get back to the library so I can get to work." Sarah re-shouldered her smaller travel bag and headed towards the door he was currently occupying.

Jareth's smirk grew wider. "My dear, since it's all coming so easy for you I just assumed you could find the way yourself." And with that, he disappeared.

"Brat," Sarah muttered to herself. Rather than running down the hall, she took a moment to further explore her bedroom. If Jareth wasn't in a rush for her to get back to work, then neither was she. Turning her back to the doorway, she traveled counter-clockwise, taking in every aspect of the room and mentally noting the distance between pieces of furniture, should she have to traverse the space in the dark. There was a fireplace just to the right of the door, flanked by two deep leather chairs. The couch she had been dumped onto, also leather, faced the fireplace, creating a small sitting area at the front of the room. Sarah found it odd to think of entertaining with the large bed so noticeable behind the couch, but supposed it was no different than her first studio apartment. Against the wall from the couch was a small serving bar with what appeared to be a decanter of Scotch of some sort. Smelling it confirmed her suspicions – Jareth knew she was a whiskey drinker. How he knew that she did not want to guess.

Moving six feet past the couch she ran her hand over the deep blue duvet cover on the bed. She grabbed her duffel bag off the end of the bed and walked to the wardrobe against the far wall. For a brief moment she was afraid to open it and find a ridiculous pile of dresses she was expected to wear. To her relief, it was empty. Sarah hung up her clothing quickly, storing her undergarments and jeans in the drawers below. She took out her few toiletries and placed them on the vanity next to the wardrobe. The door on the other side of the vanity led to a white-tiled bathroom. _Oh, thank God, there's modern plumbing!_ Having explored her little sanctuary for the time being, the next challenge was to find her way back to the library. Sarah paused for a moment before shutting her eyes and saying, "I wish I were in Jareth's library, right now!"

Waiting a heartbeat longer, Sarah opened her eyes and saw she was still standing in her room. _Well, it was worth a shot_ she thought. The easiest path not available, it was time to think about traversing by foot. She ran through the catalog of information in her mind, ticking them off on her fingers as she muttered aloud.

"First, things aren't always what they seem. Second, don't take anything for granted…" she continued pacing, stacking her knowledge of medieval castles against those first two rules that essentially made everything else null and void. _This is ridiculous. If I keep second-guessing everything I will simply talk myself in circles and accomplish nothing. _Continuing to tick items off with her fingers, Sarah went on, "Third, I have a basis for comparison thanks to my time working in England and Scotland. The sun rose behind the castle the last time I was here. We will take that to be east. The throne room is at the front of the castle facing west."

Sarah went out to the balcony and saw the sun was almost directly above her, but still slightly to the left. "If that's east, then my room is to the north. I need to take a right." Without questioning any further, Sarah strode out the door and down the hallway to the right.

Jareth lounged in his throne, watching Sarah in a crystal. He was pleased with how quickly she made a decision, even more pleased that it was the right one. Logic did not always dictate in his kingdom, but that was mostly his doing. She continued heading west until he looked up to see her enter through the door to his left. Quickly vanishing the crystal he rose and gave her a small bow.

"That, my dear, was impressive," he said.

"Did it prove my point?" Sarah asked, smiling.

"Very much so. I believe you know the way to the library from here? I shall check in on you from time to time, but for now, I have other matters to attend to."

Sarah nodded, turning to the archway on the right and heading back to the library. Jareth watched her retreating back a little wistfully.


	6. Chapter 6

Sarah retraced her steps to the library, opening the door to find Sir Didymus waiting with pen and paper for her.

"My Lady," he bowed, "I am here to serve as your faithful secretary."

Sarah broke into a grin as she hugged her friend for the second time that day. "Didymus! This is such a great surprise! I was worried I'd be stuck repeating myself to a goblin all day."

"While loyal servants to the King, goblins have terrible penmanship, my Lady," Didymus explained.

"Ok," Sarah pulled off her t-shirt, leaving her clad in a tight black tank top and form fitting jeans, "I'm in work mode, Sir Didymus, so if I seem sharp, please excuse me. What I need for you to do is jot down everything I say. I mean it, even if it seems I'm muttering to myself, don't ask questions, just write. Please date each day's work so I can keep it organized."

When Didymus nodded she emptied out the contents of her bag and organized it onto the large desk. Pointing to each thing she explained, "Sticky notes, onion paper, pencils, gloves. In case I need you to grab something for me." Sarah turned to head down to the length of the library then paused for a moment. Turning back to Sir Didymus, she asked, "Do you know if there has ever been a librarian or archivist for this collection? A master index would save a boatload of time."

Didymus paused, his whiskers twitching slightly as he thought. "None to my knowledge, my Lady, and I have been in the king's service for many years."

Sarah was tempted to ask how long, but shook off that question till a later time. There were larger questions she was being paid to answer quickly. She strode down to the first range at the far end of the library. A sudden memory made her laugh. "The way forward is sometimes the way back." she mumbled. Although he said nothing, she heard Sir Didymus scribbling in her wake.

oOoOoOoOo

They had been working for several hours when the rumbling of her stomach alerted Sarah that it might be time to take a break. She had been relieved to note that whoever had written the massive tomes had been wise enough to index each one. She encountered the province in the third book – initially part of the Labyrinth kingdom, it had been gifted to the Western Plain as a treaty offering. She had determined the starting point, the size of the land, and as she went she noted the population count, taxes, and exports at the time the land was passed off. Sweaty and covered in dust, Sarah marked the place to pick up with a sticky note and headed back to the desk at the head of the library.

"Sir Didymus, I cannot thank you enough for your assistance. I know it must be taxing; I'm used to working alone." she told her friend.

Sir Didymus carefully stacked his notes on the desk before turning and bowing to her once again. "My lady, it is always a pleasure to assist you. When will we begin on the morrow?"

Sarah looked around for the first time and noted that the sun had set while they were working. Orbs of light lined the walls; she hadn't even noticed a change in the light. It wouldn't be the first time Sarah had worked through the night, but she felt guilty that she had dragged Didymus along with her, without so much as a bathroom break.

"Um, would 8 be too early?" she asked tentatively.

Sir Didymus didn't even flinch, "I will meet thee here at 8, my Lady. Now if you will excuse me." and the little knight bounded out the door. _Probably looking for the closest bathroom, poor guy. I've got to be more careful_ Sarah thought ruefully.

She turned back to the desk, flipping through the notes Sir Didymus left and marking little stars next to key points for her official write-up. So engrossed in what she was doing, she almost screamed when she heard a voice ask, "What in the world is that?"

She spun around to see Jareth regarding her curiously. She turned her neck, trying to see behind her, "What? Is my bra strap hanging out?"

Jareth reached out and grabbed the strap on her tank top, pulling it back from her shoulder.

"Hey! What do you think you're doing?" she asked, swatting his hand away.

"I'm trying to see what appears to be inked upon your body. Although my original intention was to ask if you cared to join me for dinner." he stepped away from her, but his eyes still scanned over her shoulders as if he could see through her if he tried hard enough.

"Oh! God, I'm so used to it I forget it's there sometimes. It's a tattoo, Jareth, and no, you can't see it. But yes, I would love some dinner." she smiled, but he could see she was flustered. Whether it was from his touch or his discovery that she had marked herself, she had developed a lovely rose shade from her cheeks down to her chest.

After a simple dinner Sarah rose to go back to her room and take advantage of the shower she saw earlier. She thought for a moment before excusing herself. "Jareth, um, I have GOT to shower. I think I'm covered in thousand-year old dust bunnies." Jareth chuckled softly as she grimaced, glancing at her arms.

"I wasn't going to mention it, but I must say I have never had the opportunity to dine in such a…casual environment." he said, looking over her speculatively.

"Yes, well," Sarah rolled her eyes, "I don't want you to get the wrong idea, but I saw there was a bar in my sitting room and I was wondering if you would join me for a drink. Say in thirty minutes?"

Jareth quirked an eyebrow, "Do you mean to tell me it's going to take you an entire half hour to shower?"

"Jareth this smell is not going to improve with time. Are you really going to give me crap for banishing it down the drain?" she shot back.

Jareth rose from his seat, bowed slightly to her and said, "My dear, I would be honored to meet you in half an hour."

Nodding, as if to convince herself this was the right choice, Sarah headed back to her room. She wondered if Jareth was going to change clothes before meeting her.


	7. Chapter 7

_There is nothing better than a hot shower after a long day_ Sarah thought as she turned off the faucet. Wrapping her hair up in a towel, she stepped into the fluffy white robe she had found on the back of the door. She debated staying in the robe, but knew it would give the wrong impression. Sighing, she grabbed her long gray yoga pants and an oversize t-shirt. No possible misinterpretation there.

When she heard the knock on her door she unwrapped the towel from her hair, letting it lie damp down her back. She opened the door to find Jareth in the same clothes from dinner. Perhaps this late in the evening there was no point in an additional wardrobe change. She held the door open for him, leaving it slightly ajar before following him to the sitting area.

"How do you take your Scotch?" she asked.

"Two fingers. Neat." Sarah smiled, pouring them each a snifter. She wondered if it was on purpose, but saw him raise one eyebrow when he noticed she took hers the same way.

Sarah handed Jareth his glass before settling into the leather chair across from him. She draped one leg over the arm, breathed in the scent of the Scotch before taking a sip and letting it slide over her tongue, warming her insides as it went down. Her eyes closed and she sighed happily.

"This is excellent," she told him, her eyes still closed. She heard a strangled "uh-huh" to which she opened her eyes. Jareth was staring at her, mouth slightly open. When he saw her eyes open he cleared his throat, sat up a little straighter, and looked out over the room.

"So…how did you become a whiskey drinker, Sarah?" he asked, staring determinedly at the fireplace and NOT at her.

"Mmm, my college roommate gets all the credit. During the winter, if you were going to venture off campus you had to trek through the snow for five blocks to the nearest bus stop. Then you had to wait ten more minute for the bus to show up. The closest bar was this little hole in the wall, The Emerald. All the undergrads and local drunks hung out there. My first trip I was so pissed at Michelle for dragging me out with her. She was meeting some guy. She ordered me a shot of whiskey, told me to sip it slowly, and I've been hooked ever since." Sarah smiled as she looked into her glass, as if the memory were hidden inside it. Turning her gaze back to Jareth she asked, "What about you?"

Jareth shrugged his shoulders, "Me? After the first meeting I ever sat in on with my father, he invited me into his study and poured me a glass. Unlike your friend he did NOT warn me to sip it."

Sarah chuckled softly, trying to imagine Jareth sputtering out that first mouthful. The image didn't hold with the man seated before her, but then she hoped the petulance of her youth no longer held for her either.

"When I took a job in England," she began, "I was working for a gentleman trying to trace down his lineage. Every night, when I wrapped up, he would invite me to sit down and share my findings over a Scotch. It's become something of a tradition of mine." With that, she caught Jareth up on what she had discovered that day. He nodded, seemingly pleased with her progress thus far.

"By the way," she added, "I really appreciate you sending me Sir Didymus for a secretary."

"Well, when it comes down to it, I know Didymus can be trusted with whatever you uncover. And, he does have excellent penmanship."

Sarah took another sip before continuing. "Jareth, ordinarily I just come in, find what people are looking for, and get out. I don't get involved. But nothing I've found so far would indicate why this guy is coming after you. Are you sure there's no hidden animosity, some slight that wouldn't be recorded in your history?"

Rather than address her actual question, Jareth tilted his head and asked, "Why does that concern you so much?"

Sarah blushed. Fortifying herself with another sip of Scotch she met his gaze head-on, "Whether I liked it or not, this place, you, were instrumental in my growing up. You saw me at my absolute worst as a human being, and that is not something I take lightly. I want to help. Even if this whole thing ends up being a blip on your radar, I want to contribute in some way."

Jareth could feel the beginnings of a very non-king-like grin at her confession. She was as direct as usual, a trait he found rather refreshing. Schooling his features into something more appropriate, Jareth rose and set his empty glass back on the bar. "My dear, you have an early morning, as do I. But I would love to continue this tradition of yours, if you're so inclined." At Sarah's nod he headed to the door, but turned back at the last moment.

"And Sarah, please remember: I may have seen you at your worst, but I have also witnessed you at your best. And your best is far more impressive than anyone else I have known."

With that, he shut the door quietly behind him. Sarah stared at the door for quite awhile before going to bed that night.


	8. Chapter 8

The following morning found Sarah awake shortly after sunrise. She began her morning yoga routine out on the balcony, centering her mind and body to the day's task. Finishing with a whispered, "Namaste," she pulled on her jeans, a tank top, and pulled her long hair back into a bun. Washing her face and brushing her teeth quickly, she headed down the hall to the dining room she and Jareth had eaten in the night before. She remembered seeing the goblins serve from the door at the end of the room. She prayed that Jareth was smart enough to have a coffee maker.

To her pleasant surprise, although the kitchen was empty, there was freshly brewed coffee and an assortment of pastries and fruit. Sarah picked over the fruit until she saw one chocolate croissant hiding amongst the other pastries. Snatching it up and filling a mug with coffee, she headed towards the library.

She had finished outlining her key points from Didymus' notes, highlighting details she might come back to later, when her empty mug sent her back to the kitchen for a refill. When she wandered back to the library, a good half hour before Sir Didymus joined her, she was startled to see Jareth reading over her notes. He turned at her quiet "Oh!"

"You know, I should have figured you'd go for the chocolate one," he said, pointing to the half-eaten croissant on the desk.

"Oh don't tell me it's your special croissant." she joked, grabbing the pastry and taking another bite. He watched her as she sucked the spilled chocolate off her thumb.

"As a matter of fact, yes. It's the only one in the pile so that the goblins can identify it when they prepare my plate." he cocked an eyebrow at her before snatching the remaining bite before she could blink.

"That'll teach you to sleep in. What's that about the early bird catching worms?" Sarah teased, sipping her coffee and completely ignoring the fact that he blatantly stole the rest of her breakfast.

"I am a king, I'll remind you. I don't eat worms in the morning, I eat chocolate croissants." Jareth said.

Setting her coffee on the desk and crossing her arms, Sarah said, "I'll make you a deal: You get me a coffee maker in this library and I'll find a new favorite pastry."

"Consider it done," Jareth said, and with a wave of his hand there was a full pot of coffee sitting on the desk next to her mug. She noticed a second mug had appeared next to her own and Jareth grabbed it without a word. She could see his grin over the lip of the mug.

"So let me get this straight," she said, leaning her back against the desk, "you can magic a pot of coffee in here, but you can't make more chocolate croissants?"

"My dear, I never said I couldn't. I just so enjoy watching you in… compromising situations."

Before she could retort, Sir Didymus arrived with a low bow and greeting, "Your Majesty, my Lady Sarah, I bid you both good morning."

Sarah grinned at the knight. "Are you ready to go? His Majesty was just leaving for more pastries."

"Yes," Jareth said, grabbing his mug and heading toward the door, "I will be back around lunchtime to check on your progress."

"Careful those croissants don't ruin your girlish figure!" Sarah called to his retreating back.

"My Lady!" Sir Didymus gasped in shock, but Sarah was certain she saw his whiskers shaking with restrained laughter as they headed back to the stacks.

oOoOoOoOo

Sarah and Sir Didymus had spanned several more centuries in their timeline when the clattering of silverware distracted them. Two goblins were maneuvering a serving table into the room, and judging by the small spills trailing behind them, it had been a bumpy ride.

"Looks like our lunch break starts now, Sir Didymus." Sarah said, brushing off the dust that had collected on the front of her tank top. She noted absently that she had been wondering when Jareth would reappear. The thought caused her to stop midstride, freezing in the middle of the hallway as if she'd been slapped. _Oh no_ she thought _Sarah stop that right fucking now!_ Forcing a grin onto her face, she joined Didymus at the table. She felt her pulse race a little when Jareth came through the door. _Damn it!_

When she noticed Jareth eyeing her quizzically, Sarah pushed those thoughts to the back of her mind and focused on creating a sandwich out of the foodstuffs piled on the serving table. Naturally, Jareth had to find some way to antagonize her.

"Sir Didymus, how are you enjoying working with my Sarah?" he asked the knight.

The possessive term did not go unnoticed by either the knight or the girl, who firmly kept her mouth shut for the time being.

"My liege it is an honor to serve at Lady Sarah's side, whenever the greater good is the goal." Didymus answered carefully. Jareth noticed Sarah's grin out of the corner of his eye, but when he turned to her she just looked at him as innocently as possible.

Rather than sit across from her, Jareth sat in the chair closest to her. Actually, a bit closer than it had been before, although she hadn't seen it move. Every time he leaned across to the table for more fruit or bread, Sarah would swear his hand hovered over her knee for a moment. Determined to bring the mood back to acceptable levels, Sarah pursued a line of questioning that had been tugging her curiosity for awhile.

"Jareth, yesterday you mentioned that Kristoff's son is almost marrying age. How old is marrying age here?" she asked.

Jareth paused between bites before answering, "By human standards that would be 500 years old."

Sarah looked out over the stacks, an idea flitting closer to the surface, but still too unformed for her to vocalize. "So, ostensibly, if we were to trace 500 years back from the end of the stacks here, we would find a birth announcement? Perhaps a certain parcel of land gifted out?"

"Ah, I see where you're going, but no. There are more traditional gifts given at royal births," Jareth said.

"I have a hard time imagining you sending diapers or picking out baby rattles," Sarah said.

Jareth grinned, "Well, my dear, don't you know not to take anything for granted? In fact, I sent him a crystal rattle, and every time the babe shook it, it showed a kaleidoscope of colors."

He looked very pleased with himself at the memory and Sarah had to stomp down on the bubbling urge to be charmed by the story. Redirecting her thoughts, she asked, "What happens when the land changes owners? I mean to the people who live there?"

Jareth waved his hand dismissively, "Oh, their day to day life doesn't change. Essentially, the taxes earned from their exports are collected by a different emissary and their protection is handled by the new kingdom. The Western Plains and the Labyrinth agreed centuries ago not to raise taxes disproportionately. Keeps them from having a favorite."

"Has anyone ever asked the people what they thought about being passed around as a party favor?" Sarah asked.

"Sarah…look at your own timeline," Jareth frowned, "generations live and die before such a change takes place."

Sarah frowned in return, grabbing her notes off the desk and shuffling through them, "So the people there are not Fae?"

"Well, some of them, yes, but mostly it's an assortment of humans. Strays, the disenfranchised who wished themselves away, people who stumbled through portals and couldn't get back, traveling merchants and the like."

"Um, Jareth, no one bothered to record that little fact," Sarah told him, glancing over her notes one more time to be certain. "Which means, we can't totally rely on these tomes to have EVERYthing we need. Obviously the author assumed that whoever was reading them already knew the heritage of that little town."

Jareth straightened, eying her seriously, "Do you believe this will prevent you from completing your task?"

She didn't answer straight away, but held up a finger to indicate she was thinking. She had already begun pacing, her lips moving silently as the idea took shape.

"The timeline is incidental. By that, I mean, all I'm doing is collecting what you have already recorded. So for all intents and purposes it doesn't matter how accurate your books are; no one can dispute signed paperwork. But let me think on our second problem a little longer. I may have an idea…" and without another glance in his direction, Sarah bolted back into the stacks.

Sir Didymus shrugged his shoulders, set his plate back down and bowed to Jareth, "My liege, I believe that is my signal to return to work."


	9. Chapter 9

Once again, Sarah found herself working into the late evening. At least this time she remembered to send Sir Didymus home at a reasonable hour. Her notes were spread across the desk and she placed little checkmarks next to items as she transcribed them into a separate notebook.

"You do realize you have 2 weeks to accomplish this, don't you? I certainly never expected it to be completed in two days." Jareth's voice brushed against her ear, scaring her out of her skin.

"Jesus, Jareth! Are you trying to make a habit of scaring the crap out of me?" Sarah swore, jerking her head around to find herself inches from his.

"For what it's worth, I DID knock. You were so engrossed you didn't notice," he murmured, "and I think I'm starting to like fetching you at the end of the day." He pulled back slightly, but remained in her personal space.

Sarah could feel her heart rate picking up, felt the smile forming at the corners of her mouth and knew she was treading on dangerous ground. Flirting with a cute guy in a bar, fine. Flirting with the Goblin King? _You are playing with fire, girlfriend._

"Hmm, fetching me, are you? I would think by now you'd know I'll only come if you make it worth my while." She leaned back in her chair, stretching her arms over her head to relieve the tension in her back. She did not miss Jareth's eyes roaming over her.

"I thought for dinner this evening we might try one of your local delicacies. I believe they are called tacos. Is that tempting enough?" Jareth asked, holding one hand out to her expectantly.

Sarah quirked an eyebrow at him before taking his hand and letting his draw her away from the desk. "You know that's my favorite food, don't you." It wasn't a question.

Rather than answer, Jareth merely tucked her hand in the crook of his elbow and walked her to the dining room. Sarah tried very hard not to acknowledge the defined muscle she could feel through his shirt.

oOoOoOoOo

"So tell me about this idea of yours," Jareth said, once they had settled down to shrimp tacos.

"Oh no, we never discuss business or politics over dinner. It hurts digestion," Sarah told him, grabbing up a taco and delving in. They ate in silence for a few moments before Jareth continued.

"You seem to have developed some interesting habits over the last 13 years. Dare I ask what brought on your dining rules?"

Sarah smiled around a mouthful of taco, swallowed, "During my high school graduation dinner, my dad and Jeremy, my mom's boyfriend, started talking about the latest presidential election. Those two are on total opposite ends of the political spectrum even before you take into account that my mom left us for Jeremy." She took another bite, chewed, swallowed, "It got to where they were practically yelling and everyone in the restaurant was staring at us. Finally, I put my foot down." Sarah shrugged, "You should never discuss anything more consequential than the weather at dinner."

"Well, that may prove difficult, as the weather rarely changes in the Labyrinth without my say so." Jareth told her.

"Why is that?" Sarah asked.

It was Jareth's turn to shrug. "Most of the plants and animals you see here are maintained by magic. It's not like your home where tides and seasons are affected by the movement of the planet. Besides, keeping a consistent season provides a baseline for all runners of the Labyrinth, and since I cannot predict when a child will be wished away, it's far less tedious to simply let the weather maintain course."

Sarah chewed thoughtfully before speaking, "You know, I've always wondered how many others went through the Labyrinth. I thought…I don't know, that maybe over time I would run into someone and we'd just know, somehow." She looked up at Jareth and grinned, "Is there a support group for us all somewhere?"

"Well, that's the thing, really…normally, after a person leaves my realm they lose all memory of their visit here." Jareth answered, his eyes wandering to the wall behind her.

"Wait, what? So I'm the only one who remembers going through the Labyrinth?"

"Actually, you're the only one who's ever made it all the way through." he mumbled.

The shock of what he was admitting to her left Sarah speechless. She sat quietly for a moment, imagining all the people who had lost loved ones to a careless moment of anger, thoughtless wishes they could never take back. Then another thought came to her and her face lit up with an enormous grin.

"Wow. You realize I can tease you endlessly about this?" she asked.

"I know," Jareth growled out.

Feeling happy and a little reckless, Sarah stood up, leaned over and smacked a kiss on Jareth's cheek before saying, "Rest assured I will NOT be gracious about that, either. I'll see you in thirty." She turned on her heel and practically flounced out the door.

oOoOoOoOo

When Jareth knocked on her door half an hour later, he wasn't entirely certain what his Sarah had in mind for him. However, she was all business, meeting him at the door with his drink in hand.

"I want to go out and visit the province tomorrow." she told him without any preamble.

Jareth sat down across from her and took a sip. "I assume this is part of the idea you were working on today?" he asked.

Nodding, Sarah tucked her legs under her and leaned forward. Jareth had the distinct impression of an energy ball ready to jump out as her hands gestured in time with her speech. "See, here's the thing, I was thinking about what you were saying about the owning province offering protection, so I went and did a little research on the rules surrounding this whole thing. No one outside of messengers and merchants can enter your territory. The wards around your kingdom would alert you immediately, right?"

Jareth nodded, still not quite sure where she was going with all this.

"But if something had happened, if someone had been put in place in the province _before_ it was gifted back to the Labyrinth, you would have no idea, right?" Sarah asked, and again, Jareth nodded. "I think Kristoff set up a sleeper cell or something while he was deeded the Western Plains. I think there's something there he can't access now and he's trying to get it back sooner rather than later. The back-owed taxes? Just a red herring to make his claim seem believable." She settled back against the chair, sipping her Scotch as she waited for him to digest what she had laid out.

For his part, Jareth seemed rather dubious. "Sarah, politics don't work the same here as they do Aboveground. When you're not operating under a time constraint, forever can be a long time to wage war."

Sarah rolled her eyes, "I thought it wasn't long at all. Just…let me follow up on this hunch. Remember, this is what I do. I'm not the impetuous girl you met thirteen years ago."

Jareth let his eyes roam over her again. It delighted him to no end that she didn't seem to mind. He sighed, "Yes, you are quite grown up. Alright, go chase this 'hunch' as you call it to its inevitable conclusion. But I want to send someone with you as a guide." When Sarah opened her mouth to argue he raised his hand, "Before you claim your female independence to me, let me finish. Your friend Hoghead often travels there as a merchant, trading baubles and whatnot. He can introduce you to people and you won't stand out as much."

"His name is Hoggle, you know. How is it you know he sells merchandise on the side but don't know his real name?" she asked.

Jareth decided not to answer that one. "You do realize that you cannot show up in your denim and exposed arms. Much as I admire them."

"Jareth, if you think this is a chance to squeeze me into a corset, you have another thing coming."

He rolled his eyes, "You're the one who wanted to take this little jaunt; I'm only trying to help you reach your goal."

Sarah eyed him over the rim of her glass. "Then let me borrow some of your clothes."

If she thought he was going to argue, she was disappointed. In fact, the look in his eye suggested something else entirely. "As you wish," he smiled, wolfishly. Sarah wondered just what she had gotten herself into.


	10. Chapter 10

The next morning Sarah attended to her morning rituals, washed her face and brushed her teeth and exited the bathroom to find clothing laid out on the end of the bed. She pulled on the soft gray breeches that fit as snuggly as her leggings. _I am totally calling these tights from now on, I don't care what he thinks!_ The white poet's shirt hung just to her mid-thigh, so when she wrapped the black belt around her waist it could almost pass for a mini-dress. She pulled on the black ankle boots before examining herself in the mirror.

"Yep, I am one eye patch away from being a pirate," she told her reflection. She left her hair down for the time being and headed to the kitchen. She liked how the boots clicked down the hallway. Actually, she realized as she continued down the hall, she felt acutely aware of her newfound clothing. The way the texture of the breeches rubbed over her thighs as she walked. How the lace around her cuffs tickled the inside of her wrists slightly. Sarah stopped in midstride.

"What is wrong with me?" she muttered, running her hands through her hair and stopping halfway. It was his smell. _That's what's driving me nuts!_ Instead of pushing Jareth out of her mind she had practically wrapped him around her. "Oh, that bastard did this on purpose!"

_His clothing couldn't smell like fabric softener, or better yet, NOTHING!_ _No_, she ranted mentally, _it had to smell like him_. Sandalwood and that underlying musk that resonated so sharply with her memory of dancing with him that for years after, anytime she thought she caught a hint of it her heart would seize up. Now her pheromones were practically zinging off her skin. She stormed into the kitchen to grab some coffee and snatched the chocolate croissant from the pile, biting into it with as much vengeance as she could muster. Sarah knew she had to calm down, act as normal and nonchalant as possible before leaving that morning, but every time she moved she could smell a hint of Jareth and her pulse started racing.

She heard the kitchen door open behind her and without even turning around she stated, "If you are wearing a matching outfit I will mock you until the end of time."

When there was no response Sarah turned to find Jareth staring at her ass and grinning like the boy who just caught Santa delivering presents. To his credit, he was wearing a dark red, tailored shirt and black pants.

"Dark to my light, I see," she commented dryly.

"Well, I would hate to steal your thunder," he smirked, sauntering over to pour his own coffee. Sarah continued sipping from her mug and staring straight ahead. When his movements stilled she took a moment before glancing over at him. The wolfish grin from the night before had returned, she noticed. He was no longer staring at her like a present; no, this was more like his next meal.

"And just what, may I ask, do you find so interesting?" Sarah arched an eyebrow at him, refusing to acknowledge the flush she could feel growing from her chest to her cheeks.

"I just knew that shirt would look better on you," he murmured, reaching out to brush a bit of her hair behind her ear. "There's something though…" he paused, looking her over before leaning in to her neck. Sarah could feel his breath along her collarbone and instinctively leaned her head onto his shoulder. The contact, unconscious though it was, startled them both. Jareth pulled back just far enough to see her eyes. "You are intoxicating, my dear," he whispered.

Sarah's eyes flashed, "And you are just vain enough to be excited by the scent of your own laundry."

Jareth chuckled low in his throat. Slipping one hand around her waist and sliding the other through her hair, he leaned back in, running his nose along the curve of her ear. "Hardly, love," his hand tightened its grip in her hair, "I think your body should always smell as if it had recently been close to mine."

His lips were so close that if she moved at all, she would feel them against hers. Sarah realized he was waiting, just a half-moment away, for her to make the final move. She couldn't form a coherent thought around the overwhelming desire to do very bad things on the kitchen floor. Before she could make a move, though, the kitchen door swung open.

"Majesty, the dwarf's here!" the pudgy goblin announced as loudly as possible, one hand covering his eyes in a ridiculous attempt at a salute before turning on his heel and going back out.

Sarah used the interruption to place one hand against Jareth's chest, not pushing him away so much as bracing herself. He looked down at her to see she was staring fixedly into his chest as if trying to regain her balance. "I…I should go meet Hoggle," she told him.

"Sarah, wait," Jareth said as she moved towards the door. Taking the amulet from around his neck, he placed it over her head, his hand following the chain to where the symbol rested between her breasts. Gently, he tucked it inside the low-cut collar. "Whenever you're ready to come back, just clasp the amulet and say my name." Sarah nodded, still not meeting his gaze. He ran one finger down her cheek, bringing her eyes back to his, "Come back to me soon, Sarah."

She marched out without another word. She knew she had been flirting with something dangerous, but now the rules had definitely changed.


	11. Chapter 11

Sarah shot out into the throne room like she'd been fired from a cannon. Hoggle's eyebrows shot up, startled, when she wrapped him in a bear hug that would rival Ludo's grip. He patted her back tentatively, not sure what to say, but when she released him it was his familiar Sarah, smiling at him.

"Hoggle! I can't believe you never told me you're a merchant!" she said, pointing to the rucksack standing beside him.

"Eh, it aint that so much, I just believes in trading up." Hoggle shrugged his shoulders before tossing the sack over one arm and heading towards the door.

Sarah knew better than to offer to help, and as they made their way out into the sunshine she felt the knot of tension in her stomach ease a little. She could deal with Jareth later; for now, there was work to focus on and Sarah had been using work as a means of escape for years.

"So…how long before we reach this place?" Sarah asked, looking out over the Goblin City to the Labyrinth beyond.

"Heh, don't you worry missy, I's not takin' you back through there," Hoggle chuckled. "You know how we's able to visit you through the portal? It's a lot like that."

He led her through the maze of the city into a small alleyway. It dead-ended at a brick wall where Hoggle muttered something. Suddenly, the wall shimmered a little and he took her hand, "We gets in here."

Walking through, Sarah found herself at the top of a grassy hill. About a half mile away she could see the gates to town. It reminded her a little of a trip to Bath; she could see rows of thatched roofs, but in the center there were more stately buildings.

"Uh, I don't really knows what you're lookin' for. The people here are nice, but kinda quiet. They's used to travelers comin' through…but I wouldn't tell 'em you're workin' for the king." Hoggle said.

"No, I just want to look around, maybe ask some questions about life here…" Sarah trailed off for a moment before turning back to Hoggle. "Let's just tell them I'm a friend learning the trade."

They began walking down the hill towards town. With half a mile to go, Hoggle filled her in on the workings of the small village. "No real government, to speak of. I mean, they's left alone, but they still belong to Jareth, for now."

"Have you ever noticed some one in charge, locally?" Sarah asked.

Hoggle thought for a moment, "Eh…I's seen one guy, name of Ainmire. He broke up a fight once between a blacksmith and a farmer claimed he cheated him. They listened to him."

"Is that unusual?" Sarah asked.

"You didn't see the size a that blacksmith." Hoggle shuddered slightly at the memory.

Laughing a little, Sarah grabbed Hoggle's free hand, "I can't think of anyone better to show me this place. I'm really glad I could do this with you."

"Aw, cor," Hoggle muttered as his cheeks turned red, but he didn't pull his hand away.

They reached the gates without passing another person. Even their entrance caused no notice. Sarah had been right in her assessment; the edges of the town were lined with two-story buildings, neat but antiquated, with signs hanging down describing the various businesses. Sarah noticed more than a few taverns between the bakeries, butcheries, and the lone blacksmith. The man she saw hammering over an anvil was at least 6'5", with a bald head and more muscles on his arms than she thought a human being could carry without crumpling under the weight. "My God, Hoggle, you weren't kidding!" she whispered. Hoggle, in turn, sped up slightly as they passed by.

Foot traffic got a little thicker as they made their way to the center of town. Sarah took in everything as they walked along, mentally noting the number of people they passed, the styles of clothing, and the architecture of the town. A few people nodded to Hoggle as they passed, but no one seemed to take notice of her.

The center of town was set up like a market, with stalls displaying all sorts of wares. Hoggle led her over to a stall on the right with stones of all sizes and colors piled almost haphazardly on every available space.

"Hoggle, my friend! What can I entice you with today?" the large man behind the table spread his arms to encompass his wares. He wore simple clothing and his red beard almost obscured his wide grin. Sarah stood by silently, watching her friend work. Hoggle unloaded a few items, muttering as he dug through the pack.

"Are you going to introduce me to your lovely friend?" the man asked pointedly.

"Wha? Oh, this here's Sarah," Hoggle gestured, as if he had forgotten she was there, "she's learnin' a bit of the trade." As he continued pulling items out, the man reached over and kissed Sarah's hand.

"Lady Sarah, it is a pleasure to meet you. My name is Collin and if you are looking for the finest treasures this side of the Labyrinth, then I am the man for you!"

"Pah, maybe cuz I brings 'em to you," Hoggle said, setting several stones on the counter. Collin's attention was immediately drawn back to the sale at hand, leaving Sarah free to examine the rest of his wares. Both polished and raw stones seemed to be piled according to color. She recognized some quartz, turquoise and what she thought might be tourmaline, but many of the brilliant pieces she had never seen before. She turned back to see the two embroiled in haggling over the apparent worth of the pieces Hoggle had brought.

"I's telling you, I can get twice that amount from Gerric! I come to you first as a favor, doin' you right, and you offer me that? Don't insult me!" Hoggle picked up the first piece, waving it under Collin's nose.

"My friend, what would you have me do? I offer you top dollar, but I must make a profit too! You would ruin me, have my children starve? I can offer you 3 drams more, nothing else." Collin reached for the stone, but Hoggle kept a firm grip on it.

"You don't have children, you miserly git! It's worth 8 more at least!"

Collin paused at the number, then shook his head. "It's a fine piece, but how can I spend that, not even knowing where it came from? Perhaps you found a quarry somewhere and will flood the market with them? You would ruin me for 5 more drams than I can afford?" Collin had the wherewithal to look hurt as he continued to grab for the stone.

"Actually," Sarah interrupted, "That piece came from me."

Both Collin and Hoggle turned to look at her, eyebrows raised.

"My lady, please don't believe I would try to cheat someone as noble as yourself or our friend Hoggle, but you must understand…"

"I certainly understand, Sir Collin, but that stone is worth at least 10 for its uniqueness." Sarah stood firm, her arms crossed.

"Uh, well, perhaps if you could tell me where it originated…" Collin trailed off, his eyes wandering between the stone and Sarah.

"My dear Collin, a lady never reveals her sources," Sarah smiled.

Grumbling a little, he looked back at Hoggle. "Six more."

"Seven," Hoggle countered, holding the stone out to him.

Collin rummaged in his purse for a moment, dropped the coins in Hoggle's hand. "You'll make a fine trader, my lady."

Taking their leave, Sarah followed Hoggle farther into the market. Grinning, she leaned over to whisper, "That was fun!"

"Yeah, and you got me twice what that rock was worth!" Hoggle whispered back, his face a mountain of crags around his grin.

Hoggle had a different assortment of treasures from stones to silver and bronzed pieces. Sarah learned quite a bit watching her friend haggle, but she never noticed him actually trading. The money in his purse was growing exponentially, though. They had covered the market in about 2 hours when Hoggle drew her out of the fray and into a tavern.

"Now we eat," he explained. "If you's gonna meet anyone who can help you, it'll be in here."

They sat at a worn wooden table towards the back. A few of the men at the bar turned to watch them, but after nodding to Hoggle, turned back to their ales. A lithe man with a trim black beard came over with 2 pints in hand.

"Hoggle, good to see you, friend. Trades going well today?" he asked as he set the pints down in front of them.

"Eh, bunch of thieves, they is. A dwarf can barely make a livin' with the likes of those," Hoggle tossed his hand, dismissing the lot of them.

The man smiled, "So it went well, then. And who is your friend, Hoggle. I dare say we've never seen her in these parts before."

"Ah, Ainmire, this is me friend Sarah. She's learnin' the trade, although round here I guess she's jus' learnin how to lose money," Hoggle introduced her.

Ainmire leaned over to kiss Sarah's hand and paused, "My lady, might there be a bit of Fae in you?" he asked.

_Not yet_ she thought, then bit back the urge to smack herself. Smiling, she told him, "No, but I've been doing business with them as of late."

"Hmm," he frowned slightly, "Be careful with that lot. They're not to be trusted. It'll take days to get the scent off of you and not everyone feels as kindly toward them as we do. Makes it difficult to do business."

Sarah nodded, "Thanks for the advice. Perhaps I could get some more from you?"

Ainmire glanced around the quiet tavern. "Well, I never minded spending time with a beautiful lady. First, let's get you two something to eat, then I'll help you as best I can." With that, he headed back into the kitchen.

"This is the best pub in town," Hoggle told her, "They brew all their ales right here. Food's not bad either," he added as he took a swig from his pint.

Sarah agreed; the beer was warm with an underlying flavor of coffee and earth. She was halfway through her first pint when Ainmire came back to the table with cups of chili and a small loaf of bread.

"Just came out of the oven, my friends," he smiled as he set the food in front of them. Sitting down with a pint of his own he asked Sarah, "So what can I tell you about our little village?"

Sarah swallowed the mouthful of chili, "Hoggle has been showing me around, introducing me to people, but I wanted to talk to someone local. You seem to be the man about town."

Ainmire smiled at the compliment and seemed to relax a bit more. "Well, we take a lot of pride in our area. We brew our own beers and wines, and you won't find any better anywhere Underground. All our meat's raised locally and we've got craftsmen who have been trained in the silversmithing arts for generations."

"I really love the architecture too. The variety in styles is so interesting," Sarah prodded.

"Ay, well… that's not entirely to our credit." At Sarah's confused look he explained, "I don't know how much Hoggle's told you, but we're not totally independent. Our land gets…traded…back and forth between the Labyrinth and the Western Plains. Every few generations a new king comes in, tours around, puts up a building 'for the people' and leaves again. Of course," he shrugged, "no one asks for our input."

"Oh, well…I didn't realize," Sarah began, but Ainmire interrupted.

"It's not that, so much, it's just a reminder that we're not our own people. We can only hold allegiance with ourselves, you see?"

"But…the Fae don't hurt anyone, do they?" Sarah asked, a sick feeling blooming in her stomach.

"No, no," Ainmire waved dismissively. "Really the worst they do is show up now and again at festivals. They...the men can be quite seductive, and should a lady fall under their charms, well…we hold claim to quite a few half-breeds who find they aren't welcome anywhere else. Makes it difficult, you know, growing up without a father."

Sarah found she couldn't eat anymore. Instead she took another fortifying gulp of ale. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry."

Ainmire's grin reappeared suddenly, "It's no worry, my lady. Believe me, if you're doing business with them I'd rather you know what you're dealing with."

Hoggle, who up until that point had been silent, suddenly chimed in, "Well, that's all the local history I can stand. Sarah, I's got some more stops to make if you's ready."

Nodding, Sarah stood up and smiled again at Ainmire, "Thanks so much for humoring me. This really is a lovely village and I hope to see more of it."

"My lady, you are always welcome at my door," he bowed, following them out.

Just outside the tavern, the three of them were drawn to a group of children fighting. Three boys, no more than 6 or 7 years old were pushing a smaller boy between them. The tallest was holding a stuffed animal over his head. "What? Are you gonna cry 'cause I stole you dolly?" he yelled. The little boy fell to the ground as the bully ripped the arms from the doll and tossed it aside.

"Hey!" Ainmire yelled, sending the bullies scattering, "Geoffrey Leoman, don't think I won't tell your father about this!" he called to their retreating backs. Kneeling down, he scooped up the broken doll and went to check on the little boy now crying on the ground.

"Curtis are you alright?" he asked the boy. The boy shook his head, "They…they hurt Adam," he sniffled, pointing at the doll in Ainmire's hands.

"What? No, they just bruised him a little," he assured him. His back was to Sarah and she watched him take the pieces behind his back and suddenly the doll was whole again. Bringing it back around and handing it to Curtis, he ruffled the boy's hair. "See? Good as new."

The boy grinned, grabbed the doll and ran down the street. Ainmire stood and turned to see Sarah staring at him in shock. He froze for a moment, looking her over as if sizing her up. "I wish you hadn't seen that," he told her.

Regaining her composure, Sarah bowed her head slightly, "I don't know what you're talking about, Ainmire. I saw you chase off some bullies. Like a good man should."

Taking her hand once more, Ainmire looked her in the eye, "I appreciate your discretion, my lady. And my offer stays true: You are always welcome here."

Sarah and Hoggle walked away in silence.


	12. Chapter 12

Sarah tucked the little scene with Ainmire in the back of her mind and continued on with Hoggle. She let the ideas simmer, confident the full picture would develop in time. They had left the market for the finer store fronts in town. In one shop Hoggle produced a skein of fabric so delicate she wondered how it stayed intact along with everything else in that bag. The fabrics lining the wall of the shop were a myriad of colors so rich she thought the dye would stain her hands when she touched them.

She noticed Hoggle didn't barter as defiantly with the shopkeepers as he had in the market. It noted a sort of social hierarchy she decided to ask him about later. The next stop on their journey was a kind of antique store, although she wondered what passed for "antique" in the village. For all she knew, the items in the shop could be brand new. She couldn't stop herself from browsing, leaving Hoggle to mutter with the owner at the counter alone. She was so engrossed in checking out the items on the shelf that Hoggle had to tug her shirt to get her attention.

"That was the last stop for me, Sarah. If you's ready, we should be getting' back soon." The two of them took their leave of the shopkeeper and stepped outside. Sarah noticed the sun was low in the sky, probably late afternoon.

"Why Hoggle!," a voice called out, "I didn't expect to see you for 2 more months now." The voice belonged to a man with swept back dark hair and deep brown eyes. He eyed Sarah even as he addressed Hoggle.

"Meh, came into some stuff I needed to unload," Hoggle mumbled. "Andreas, this is me friend Sarah. She's learnin' the trade."

Andreas wore the same simple clothing as the rest of the men she'd seen, but it was clear the fabrics were richer. Instead of the creams, browns and grays most men wore, his pants were a rich navy blue and his shirt was a little too white. It was clear he was not a man who worked outdoors. Also, he was the first man she'd noticed wearing a cape. A traveler, most likely, she thought.

"Ah, you would bring such a beautiful lady to the village and not make it a point to stop by? You wound me, Hoggle." Andreas embellished as he leaned to kiss Sarah's hand. Like Ainmire before him, she noticed a subtle pause at the scent on her skin, but he said nothing.

"You must make amends by letting me buy you both a drink!" he insisted.

Hoggle paused, glanced at Sarah, but was never one to turn down a free drink. "Eh, just one, I s'pose."

"Excellent, excellent," Andreas ushered them into a tavern down the street. The three settled in at a table toward the back and Andreas gave Sarah a quizzical look. "If you don't mind me saying so, what is a beautiful lady such as yourself doing trading? You should be in court, being admired."

Sarah cocked an eyebrow, "And waiting for some man to make me his wife? I hardly think so, Andreas."

Andreas laughed a little too loudly, "Such spirit! I love it! Hoggle, wherever did you find such a charming friend?"

"More like she found me," Hoggle said, then took a swig of ale to end the line of questioning.

"Indeed," Andreas turned back to Sarah, scrutinizing her face, "There is a tale, more of a rumor, really, of a spirited young woman who beat the Labyrinth. Her name was Sarah too, as I recall."

"Hmm, well, you know the danger of listening to rumors, I'm sure," Sarah said.

"Yes, yes of course. And this was, what, probably 13 years ago now. You couldn't have been much more than a girl then." he prodded.

"Now, Andreas, you know a lady never reveals her age," Sarah grinned full force, but her eyes glinted with an edge that gave him pause.

"Hoggle, you were working for King Jareth then, weren't you? Do you know of the girl I'm thinking of?" he asked.

Hoggle took another drink, shrugged, "I'm just a gardener, Andreas. If you thinks Jareth lets me in on anythin' goin' on around there you's givin me way too much credit."

"Well, I suppose it doesn't matter, just a funny coincidence." Andreas shrugged it off, "So please, Lady Sarah, tell me how you like our village."

Sarah smiled and chatted lightly about their day, being pleasant but not giving too many details. She made sure to take hearty gulps from her pint glass in the hopes of leaving sooner.

"I hope you took her to Ainmire's tavern for lunch," Andreas said to Hoggle. "No visit would be complete without one of his fine brews."

"Yea, we popped in. Thought she'd like the chili." Hoggle said, shrugging.

"So you met our fine Ainmire. What did you think of him?" he asked Sarah.

Being a professional researcher herself, Sarah knew when she was being scoped out, and this man's tactics were about as subtle as a club to the head. "Oh, he seemed pleasant enough. We didn't really chat, though."

"What a shame. Well, perhaps on your next visit I could show you around. You will be returning, I'm sure?" he asked.

"Of course, although I'm not sure when. I will make it a point to seek you out," Sarah smiled and rose from the table. "Now, if you'll excuse us, Hoggle and I must be getting back. Thank you for your generous hospitality."

"Anytime, my lady," Andreas bowed, "And Hoggle, anytime you bring such a charming friend with you I expect you to see me straight away!"

Hoggle mumbled something and the two friends walked out of the tavern. Making their way out of town, Hoggle looked around to be sure they weren't being followed. "That Andreas is a sneaky one. Whatever he's after, you was right not to talk to him."

At the hilltop where they first entered the realm, Hoggle turned to Sarah, "I knows you gots his amulet to bring you back to the castle. But before you go, I wanted to gives you this," he pushed a small black velvet bag into her hand.

Sarah opened it to find a bracelet. The delicate silver weaved intricate knots, and inside each one rested an emerald. "Oh Hoggle," she breathed, "this is…this is the most beautiful gift I've ever gotten." She stared at him in amazement.

Hoggle shuffled his feet, "Well, I figured I never got you a birthday gift in all the time I known ya. And, well, it matches yer eyes."

Sarah knelt down and hugged him, "Thank you, my friend." Standing back up she grinned, "I had the best time with you today."

He waved her off, "Yea, yea, me too. Now get going."

Sarah clasped the amulet in her hand and said, "Jareth." Before she could blink the hill disappeared and she found herself standing alone in the throne room.

Or at least, she thought she was alone until a pair of arms wrapped around her waist from behind and a familiar voice murmured in her ear, "Welcome back."


	13. Chapter 13

Sarah worried that her first instinct was not, in fact, to pull away or even be startled. Instead, she leaned back for a moment and let the sensation of being held by Jareth cloud her judgment. _It shouldn't be this easy_. His hands had wrapped over hers until he noticed the bracelet. He intertwined their hands and raised her arm up to admire it in the setting sunlight.

"I see someone did a little shopping on their 'work' excursion," he teased, still angling her arm from side to side as the emeralds caught the light.

"Actually, it was a gift," Sarah told him. She felt him tense up behind her in response.

Jareth couldn't help it; the very idea that someone had the gall to give his Sarah jewelry was unacceptable. "This is a rather elaborate gift. Might I enquire who gave it to you?"

"My very good, thoughtful friend Hoggle gave it to me as a birthday gift. While he was escorting me around doing work for you." Sarah kept her voice calm, if a little clipped. Neither of them moved away from the other and she knew this contest of wills had nothing to do with physical distance. After a brief pause, she could feel some of the tension go out of his stance.

"Then I must commend him on his good taste in friends and gifts." he said. Sarah accepted the compromise with a small smile. "However, I'm still curious as to where he found such a piece. This is Fae design, and judging from the quality of the silver, it came from royalty."

"Really?" Sarah asked, intrigued. "I'm pretty sure I know which shop it came from – it was the equivalent of one of our antique stores back home. Do you think it's worth checking out?"

Jareth chuckled a little bit at the excitement in her voice. "As much as I appreciate how your mind works over every possible detail, I think you can just enjoy this bracelet for what it is…a gift from a _friend_ and nothing more."

oOoOoOoOo

Andreas waited until he saw Hoggle and the girl leave the city before scurrying back to his home and preparing a missive to Lord Kristoff. No matter how they evaded, he was certain there was more to this girl than merely being Hoggle's friend. And the name, Sarah, it rung a bell. Andreas had been a watcher and messenger for a very long time. He had an eye for detail. Mumbling a few words as he sealed the letter, he watched it disappear. He went into the kitchen to prepare some dinner and was surprised at how quickly a response appeared on his desk. He rushed over to see Lord Kristoff's neat handwriting. His mission clear, Kristoff threw his cloak back on and set out to learn all about this Sarah.

oOoOoOoOo

Sarah had begged off dinner, still full from her day in town with Hoggle. Instead, she showered, changed out of Jareth's clothes and into her yoga pants and t-shirt, then paced in her room for half an hour, deciding how to deal with Jareth. Their intimate moment in the kitchen, followed by his reception of her upon her return meant it was time to clear the air. _And you didn't exactly discourage his advances. _Unfortunately, Sarah was no closer to deciding what she should do when the knock on the door came. She went to open it and committed to the first distraction that came to mind.

"So let me tell you about this little province you've been shepherding," she began as she opened the door.

Jareth, on the other hand, had decided something completely different, "I would much rather continue our conversation from this morning."

Sighing, Sarah motioned him in and turned to the bar to pour their drinks. "Why am I not surprised?," she muttered. Handing him a glass, she sat in her usual seat across from him.

Jareth raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. Sarah stared at him in stoic resolve for all of a minute before she sighed and took a sip of her whiskey. "You want to talk about this morning? Fine. You saw me, smelled me in your clothes and had a visceral reaction. So did I. No need to make a big deal out of it."

"On the contrary," Jareth said, sipping from his snifter in turn, "I think this presents an excellent opportunity to discuss where we're going."

"We?" Sarah choked, "there is no 'we'! I haven't seen you in thirteen years! The fact that you showed up with a job during a rough patch in my current relationship hardly means I'm going to run away with you!"

"Are you going to sit there and tell me you haven't thought about me, haven't _called_ on me in all this time?" Jareth asked, his voice growing cold.

"What? Called? I…" Sarah's voice trailed off. There was no way. No way he was referring to what she thought he was. It was her most closely held secret, something she had almost buried from her own memory.

"Yes, Sarah, I have heard you _every_ time you've called. And I've answered." He looked at her over the rim of his glass meaningfully. It didn't matter, though, Sarah's mind was miles away.

_She was 18, hanging out with her boyfriend at his house. His parents were away. She knew she didn't love him, but her body was pulsing with hormones and he was there. She had never let him before, but this time, when he pulled her jeans off over her hips she let him. She felt his mouth trail kisses over her stomach, then farther down between her legs. She ran her fingers through his blond hair; felt the feathery softness and stared at the ceiling above her. As she approached her first orgasm, her hands tightening around the hair gripped in her hands, she whispered a name. Barely a breath of a name. "Jareth."_

"You didn't" she said to him, wide eyed.

"Didn't what, love? Hear you? Answer? Oh believe me, I did both. Imagine my surprise to find you in such a compromising position with that boy." Jareth's voice could have cut ice. "You're lucky I didn't kill him."

Sarah bristled, "Oh? And why? Because he was there and you weren't? I'll remind you, Jareth, you hadn't exactly come knocking on my door to ask me out! Was I supposed to wait anxiously for you to show up when I turned 18 and deflower me? What the fuck?"

"It should have been me; it should always have been me! Tell me Sarah, why do you date the same type of man over and over and are yet unsatisfied with all of them?" Jareth gestured with his drink, as if to toast all the fallen men before her.

Sarah threw up her hands before taking another drink, "Ok, so I'm a terrible girlfriend! That's not exactly news to me! Do you honestly expect me to believe it's because of my deep longing for a man I met once at fifteen? Even you can't be that self-absorbed, Jareth."

Jareth's eyes glittered in the dim light, his mouth pulled back in a snarl of a smile, "Perhaps you are such a terrible girlfriend because every relationship you begin is a lie. Tell me, Sarah, have you ever been able to be totally honest with any boy you've ever been with? Do they know your little secret?"

Sarah glared at him in response. Jareth's voice softened a fraction, "Remember, Sarah, I have seen you at your worst and your best. What other man can say that? This Owen, you share a house with him but does he know everything about you?"

"Of course not. You said yourself you have to tell people they're in France or some such nonsense," she huffed, angry with herself for acknowledging he had a point.

"It's different for me: I'm protecting a delicate balance between our two worlds. What are you protecting, Sarah?" he leaned back in his chair, waiting.

Sarah was quiet for a long time. She realized, with some surprise, that she had finished her drink somewhere during their argument. She went and poured herself another, then without asking, turned and refilled Jareth's glass as well.

"Jareth, I have done this often enough to know how it ends. It starts with flirting, I get excited every time I'm going to see you. Then we move to stage two: The sex is great and I'm completely in love. Then, eventually, stage three happens where I feel smothered and spend most of my time trying to escape and not feel like a total asshole. Then I leave. And if you've been watching me all these years then you know I'm telling the truth. How can you believe you'd be any different."

"You're forgetting, my dear, I know your secrets. I know your dreams. And I have never judged you for either. You're terrified that a relationship with total honesty will end like all the others. And if that's the case, what will you have left to hope for?"

Sarah sucked her breath in between her teeth. Absently, she took another drink, as if keeping the glass between her and Jareth would somehow soften the blow. "That might be the most direct thing you've ever said to me." she told him, changing the subject.

Deciding to let the issue hold for the time being, Jareth grinned at her, "Perhaps you're rubbing off on me. I must say, I find your forthrightness rather refreshing. It's not something I experience often."

Sarah snorted over her sip of whiskey, "I spend my life unraveling riddles; I can't see the point in contributing more."

"Hmm, I wonder where you got that from?" Jareth teased.

Sarah was definitely feeling the effects of the whiskey. She giggled a little before saying, "Oh yeah, I wonder what could have possibly encouraged that charming little trait. 'The way forward is sometimes the way back?' 'Only if you ask the right question?' This place pretty much guaranteed I would never be a bullshitter."

Jareth got up to refill his glass, then turned and refilled hers before sitting on the arm of her chair.

"Sarah, show me your tattoo," he said.

"What? Why?" Sarah felt the redness climbing up her cheeks, and it wasn't totally from the booze. "You can re-order time. Nothing's stopping you from pulling out a crystal and seeing for yourself."

"Yes, I know that," Jareth said, running his finger along the collar of her shirt, "but I want you to choose to show me."

If she had been a little more sober, Sarah knew she would have said no, but the warmth in her stomach and the nearness of him weakened her resolve. "Fine," she muttered, turning her back to him and pulling up her t-shirt.


	14. Chapter 14

Jareth was speechless, which was not something he experienced often. He had suspected her tattoo had something to do with her time in his kingdom, but he had never expected this. Cautiously, as if it were a vision that would disappear, he ran his finger along the outline of one wingtip. The owl covered half her back, its wings stretching out to her shoulder blades. It was permanently frozen in flight, and gripped in its talons was a crystal.

"When…how long have you worn this?" he breathed. The likeness was amazing.

"I got it when I turned 22. It took me awhile to draw it out just the way I wanted it." she told him, her face half turned towards his.

"The art classes." It was a statement, not a question, and she nodded her head in response. He traced his finger along the other wing. When he felt her shiver slightly, he paused, then lightly tugged her t-shirt back down.

"You have worn my totem for six years and you want me to believe you feel nothing for me?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow and sipping his whiskey.

Sarah leaned back into the leather chair and eyed him over the rim of her glass as he remained perched on the armrest. "I never said that. I said it was a bad idea."

"You know what I love about bad ideas?" Jareth purred, one hand trailing through her hair until it rested at the back of her head, "they are always, without fail, the most fun."

Sarah smirked at him and took another sip. "I know a line when I hear one, Goblin King." She stood up, letting his hand slide out of her hair and paced a few steps away before turning back to him. "Why did you wait?" she asked.

Jareth smiled a little half-smile and shrugged, "You had to grow up. I didn't want to, at first, but then you…" he paused, looking for the right word, "you bloomed. I was fascinated. And the more I watched you become the more I fell…" he trailed off, shaking his head and throwing back the last of his drink.

Setting the glass down, he met her eyes, "I'm amazed by you. You are so much more than I could have imagined or dreamed. How could I just knock on your door like any other man and try to change you?"

Sarah paused a moment, then made a choice. Without giving him a chance to react, she kissed him softly, her thumbs tracing over his cheekbones. She felt his shock and in turn nipped at his lower lip as his hands gripped her waist to pull her closer. Wrapping her arms around his neck she smiled up at him.

"We have had too much whiskey for this to be a good idea," she warned him.

"I do _not_ care," he growled, biting her earlobe to make his point.

Sarah let out a throaty chuckle, "Yeah, I figured as much." She pushed Jareth off the arm rest and back into the leather chair, pleased to note that the chair was wide enough for her legs to straddle him comfortably. "And I technically still have a boyfriend to break up with."

Jareth had begun trailing kisses down her neck to her collar bone. "Mere technicalities," he murmured against her skin, tugging her t-shirt over her head.

The heat building inside her was growing in urgency. Sarah slid her body against his, feeling him grow hard against her as she ground her hips with increasing need. Her hands tugged his shirt free, ripping it over his head as his hands gripped her closer to him. With a quick tug of his hands, he raised her up just far enough to grab a nipple between his teeth. Sarah gasped, gripping his hair and pulling him back to kiss him again. When she pulled back a second time, she slipped her pants off in a move that Jareth would swear was magic before rubbing her naked body against his.

"I don't want to wait," she told him in a hoarse whisper.

Jareth let out a broken moan and tugged his pants down. Sarah didn't pause, positioned herself over him and slid his entire length inside her. His mouth found hers again as he moved inside her, slowly at first, savoring the heat of her.

"Jareth," she moaned, pulling him away by his hair and staring him in the eye, "Fuck me like you mean it."

Something inside him broke and he bared his teeth at her, biting her lower lip as he gripped her hips and drove into her. He could hear her moaning, calling his name and nothing else mattered. She bit him along his neck, his shoulder, ripping her nails across his back in her attempts to draw him deeper. He could feel her spasming around his cock and pushed harder until she stilled against him.

Sarah leaned her head against his shoulder, her breathing irregular. Jareth ran tiny kisses along her neck until he found her pulse point, beating against her neck like a wild bird. He suckled it for a moment, his tongue tasting her sweat, before gripping it in his teeth. The wild bird of her pulse fluttered harder and he could hear her gasp against him. With each flick of his tongue her body moved against his, picking up the rhythm. In moments she was grinding against him again, the heat stoking back to a fever pitch.

As she pulled back to gain better leverage, his hands gripped her thighs, holding her just at the head of his cock. "Is this what you wanted?" he breathed.

"Yes" she moaned, her head back, her body trying desperately to move closer to him.

"Tell me, Sarah, say it," he teased, pushing into her another inch.

In a movement that defied physics, Sarah wrapped her legs around his waist, grabbed his wrists free and sank her body onto his. "You're mine, Goblin King," she whispered into his ear. Her body tightened around him and there was nothing else.

Somewhere through the haze of lust Jareth realized she had defeated him again, and he absolutely did not give a damn.


	15. Chapter 15

Sarah drifted back to consciousness early the next morning out of habit, a routine she had every intention of ignoring. Her brain felt comfortably fuzzy and her body was more than happy to skip yoga that morning in favor of staying buried in the feather top mattress. More importantly, the arm wrapped around her waist seemed very determined that she not go anywhere. Grinning to herself, she rolled over and rubbed her cheek against his shoulder like a cat.

"Please don't tell me you're a morning person," Jareth mumbled, turning sleepily to kiss her forehead.

"'Fraid so. Lucky for you, you wore me out last night. I am perfectly content to stay in bed." As if to prove her point, a yawn slipped out and Sarah resettled her head against his chest.

"Mm-hm. I'll keep that in mind if I plan to sleep late ever again," he said, using her new position to wrap both arms around her.

They stayed in a comfortable twilight between sleep and waking until the sun began to rise, letting rosy tendrils of light seep into the room. The fuzziness around her brain wearing off, Sarah took a moment to admire him while the rest of the world was quiet. She ran her fingers over his arms, her hand splaying out across his chest and down his side. She smiled a little to herself, letting her eyes wander over his body freely. When she looked up she found him watching her with rapt attention. Without a word he drew her to him, kissing her deeply. It was not the same urgency as the night before, but the hunger was there, that constant craving she felt from the first time she kissed him. He rolled her underneath him, his mouth never leaving hers as his hands explored her body, memorizing curves, smiling against her mouth when a certain touch made her gasp. Sarah felt like a map being read for the first time, each movement a discovery.

Lying together afterwards, Sarah told him about her trip to the province. Her head resting on his chest and her hand twining through his hair, she couldn't see him grinning down at her, but she could feel his chest rise and fall when he let out a small chuckle.

"What's so funny?" she frowned up at him, starting to push herself off his chest until his arms wrapped around her and kept her in place.

"Shh, don't get upset," he said, still chuckling to himself as he kissed her cheek, "I was just thinking how far we've come from status reports over whiskey."

"Well, whiskey probably had a little to do with it," she said, settling her head back on his chest.

"Are you implying I needed to get you drunk to get you in bed?" he teased, wrapping strands of her hair around his finger.

"Hardly," she laughed, "but it was nice sharing my little ritual with you. It made you seem… more real."

"And how do I seem to you now, Sarah?" he asked, his finger drawing her chin up to meet his gaze.

Sarah gave a wicked smile in response, "You feel like I'm not going to be able to walk today." Grabbing his hand she said, "This time we're moving it to the shower or we will never make any progress out of this room."

oOoOoOoOo

Andreas had worked through the night. Without the luxury of being able to re-order time like Jareth was rumored to do, he had been completing his mission without much sleep. At last, he sent off his progress report to Lord Kristoff and wearily sank into his couch cushions to rest until he received further orders.

They were not long in coming. Thirty minutes later he received a sealed envelope, to be delivered to the Goblin King. Sighing, he donned his traveling cape and headed out the door. Nodding briefly to the shopkeepers as he passed, he grabbed a fresh roll from a nearby bakery and trekked out towards the Labyrinth.

oOoOoOoOo

Sarah and Didymus were back to work in the stacks. He said nothing about Sarah's tardiness, but she was certain she caught him chuckling to himself when he thought she wasn't looking. Her search was still two-fold, but she suspected she had a few more generations to look through before she found proof of her suspicions. The two were making excellent progress when Sarah stopped suddenly.

"Sir Didymus, I keep reading about certain festivals. I know about Samhain and Beltane, but where are they celebrated? Is it all through the Underground?" she asked.

"Oh certainly, my lady. His majesty often hosts grand events here in the castle and the goblins celebrate in the Goblin City in their own fashion. I imagine it is similar in other lands as well." he said.

Sarah could just imagine what the goblins got up to on such occasions. "Have you ever been to a festival in the province we're researching?"

"I have not, my lady. As a knight, it is my sworn duty to protect the crown at all times. Especially on nights as rowdy as those." Didymus paused for a moment, "Perhaps Sir Hoggle would know more. May I ask how this forwards our search?"

"I'm thinking about something a man warned me of when I was in town the other day…" she was interrupted by lunch being delivered. "Let's take a break, Didymus. I think better on a full stomach anyway."

The two had settled in to their food when Jareth joined them, a letter in hand. He sat down next to Sarah looking thoughtful.

"I received a message this morning. It seems that Lord Kristoff wants to discuss the province in person, make some sort of arrangement." he told them, idly picking at the food on the table.

"Wait, I've only been at it for less than a week! Tell him to hold his horses." Sarah said.

"It's not that simple, I'm afraid. There's protocol to be followed. It's a reasonable request, we've had no former hostilities, there's simply no reason to deny his visit." Jareth told her. Sir Didymus nodded in agreement.

Sarah looked back and forth between the two, her eyes wide, "Wait, so even though you've hired me to research this because you KNOW he's up to something, you have to play nice like nothing's wrong? That's ridiculous!"

Jareth sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose to ward off the headache that has started the minute Andreas approached him this morning. "As I said, there are protocols to be followed. These are the games we play so that everyone gets along. Remember, our lands share a border. There's commerce to think of at the very least and war at the very worst."

Sarah rolled her eyes at his explanation, "This is why I never got into politics. The whole thing could be simplified if everyone was honest and minded their own business."

"Ah yes, because your people have always been so good at that," Jareth smirked.

"Of course not; why do you think I hate it?" she retorted.

"Well my dear, this is a perfect opportunity to learn the ground rules, don't you think?" he said.

"Please," Sarah huffed, "I'm perfectly happy to keep doing what I do and leave politics to those so inclined. Whatever use would I have for poli-" her voice trailed off as she noticed Jareth's face ice over into a reserved mask. His eyes glared at her.

"Naturally. Of course, why would you _ever_ have to concern yourself with politics? You're just here to research." he sneered, pushing away from the table and storming out of the room.

"Goddamit," she muttered under her breath. She stormed back into the stacks, Sir Didymus following silently behind her.


	16. Chapter 16

She had sent Sir Didymus home hours ago and continued working into the night. Jareth never came to "fetch" her, as he called it, and she was too stubborn to seek him out. At least not yet. So she went back to what she did best and engrossed herself in work. It was slow, taking her notes by hand, but she had managed to cover a bit more ground.

"My God, your handwriting really is atrocious!" she glanced over briefly to find Jareth reading through the sheaf of notes beside her.

"I'll have you know, your Majesty, that my cursive is impeccable AND I do a decent calligraphy. That chicken scratch is my version of shorthand." she smiled a little, never looking up from her work and continuing to take notes until she felt arms wrap around her waist. She set her pencil down and let her hands cover his, leaning back against his chest.

"I'm sorry. I know politics are part of your life. I shouldn't have been so crass. What you do, what you have to do is not easy – at least it wouldn't be for me. I guess I just…wasn't thinking of it in terms of me being a part of it." she said.

She felt him sigh against her hair, his arms tightening a bit. "I think…this is a very new situation for both of us. Perhaps my reaction was a little impatient." They stood in silence for a moment before he asked, "Are you hungry?"

Sarah didn't even get a chance to answer before her stomach growled. Laughing a little, Jareth grabbed her hand and pulled her away from her work. "Come, I thought you'd enjoy a more traditional late night meal."

Without warning he transported them back to her room where a table was set up with, of all things, pizza. It was Sarah's turn to laugh, "Now you get to experience first-hand what a terrible diet I have." She grabbed a slice and settled into the leather chair.

"I must say, I've been enjoying the chance to actually eat some of it. You always seemed to take such delight in foods that don't require silverware." he teased, looking at the dripping cheese with a raised eyebrow.

"Mmm," she nodded around a mouthful of pepperoni, "To be honest, it has more to do with the fact that I HATE washing dishes above all else. That, and pizza and tacos are possibly the world's greatest inventions ever."

They ate in companionable silence until Sarah finished her second slice. "So teach me some political basics. What do we have to do to entertain this Lord Kristoff?"

"These visits traditionally last 3 days. You will spend the majority of your days working, as usual, while I will be stuck in meetings that will feel like the rest of my life," Jareth rolled his eyes. "Aside from that, there will be rather uncomfortable dinners the first two days, followed by a formal banquet on the third."

"You mean a going-away party for a guest you never invited in the first place?" Sarah asked.

"Exactly," Jareth smiled. "Were this not a last-minute request, though, we would have to throw a ball."

Sarah rolled her eyes, "Rather cliché, isn't it?"

Jareth feigned hurt, "I thought you loved masquerades, Sarah?"

"Believe it or not, I've never been _formally_ invited to one," she raised an eyebrow in challenge.

"My, how inappropriate! We'll have to rectify that in the future." Jareth looked at her with wide eyes, his hand against his cheek in mock shock.

Sarah crawled next to him on the couch, draping her legs over his "I do appreciate your feigned innocence, dear, but remember, you're the first boy who had a chance to invite me to a party and I got kidnapped instead!"

"First off, I am hardly a boy, love. Second, I most certainly did NOT kidnap you – you ate the peach. How else is one supposed to enter a dreamscape?" Jareth tried very hard to keep the smirk off his face as he began massaging her calves.

"Would a little piece of linen paper have killed you? Perhaps some nice gold-lettered calligraphy? There is something to be said for tradition, after all," she teased, stretching out onto her back as he continued his ministrations.

"I give you a beautiful dress and you're complaining about calligraphy?" This time he gave in to his urge to laugh, gripping her thigh and pulling her down to him. Leaning over her, he ran his fingers across her cheek, pushing her hair behind her ear. "A man could exhaust himself trying to keep up."

"So I've been told," she grinned back, wrapping her legs around his waist and pulling him against her, "I suppose we could reach a compromise."

oOoOoOoOo

The following morning Sarah gave in to her body's demand for routine. Leaving Jareth in a mess of blond hair wrapped under the comforter, she slipped out onto the balcony and began her yoga routine. Stretching muscles that had been used in _quite_ a different manner than they were used to, she felt herself center, found she could mentally assess her challenges without emotion and organize her thoughts for a later time. She folded her hands into a prayer pose and whispered "Namaste" to the rising sun.

She slipped back in the room, seeing Jareth was still passed out, and decided to shower. There would be plenty of mornings for sleeping in, but that would have to be reserved for after his unexpected guests went back home. She frowned a little to herself as she lathered shampoo into her hair. Ainmire's warning was still niggling in the back of her mind. She knew it fit in with the rest of her research somewhere. Suddenly she smacked herself in the forehead. "I am an idiot!" she muttered, quickly rinsing out her hair and finishing as quickly as possible. Wrapping her hair in a towel, she rushed out and threw on clothes as quickly as possible, pulling on a tanktop before stopping in sudden confusion. Sarah's work wardrobe had consisted of jeans and a tanktop for years. She always wore racerbacks because it covered the tattoo, but now as she turned in front of the vanity mirror she saw her top was almost backless. Reaching back in the wardrobe she pulled out top after top to find them all in a similar state. She turned towards the bed, both hands gripping a handful of shirts, to find Jareth grinning at her.

"I don't know that we've been a couple long enough for you to start dictating my wardrobe," she told him, one eyebrow arched in challenge.

"Oh come now, I ask for so little…" his eyes still sparkled but his lower lip jutted out just enough that she would swear he was…yes, that was definitely a pout. She turned back to the mirror in exasperation but before she could retort he was behind her, his eyes meeting hers in the mirror.

"I love this," he whispered, running one thumb across a wingtip. Sarah shivered at the delicate touch, "I would have you show it always. Please." Turning her around he looked her in the eye, "Remember, I didn't mark you; you chose this. You chose to etch my totem into your skin. After 13 years you can forgive me if I don't wish to hide that, can't you?"

Sarah felt her previous resolve melt away. _Damn it!_ Kissing him lightly she conceded, "Ok. But as long as we agree from here on out: No more wardrobe alterations without asking me first. Deal?"

He didn't answer right away and Sarah rolled her eyes at him, realizing he was thinking about how he might work around the spoken "rules" of this deal. His gaze returned to hers, knowing he'd been caught. "Would it help your decision if I reminded you of my temper?" she asked.

"It's a deal, love." Jareth answered quickly, kissing her forehead before heading toward the shower. Shaking her head and laughing a little, she pulled the new tanktop over her head and made her way to the library.


	17. Chapter 17

Sarah rushed into the library moments before Sir Didymus joined her. Without any preamble, she told him, "Go back through our notes and pull every volume we marked with census records." Nodding, Sir Didymus bounded back into the stacks while Sarah flipped through her notepad. As he piled the books on the desk, she scanned through the pages, marking names and dates on a separate sheet of paper. The two worked feverishly through the morning, Sir Didymus adding new books as soon as she shut one. By the time they reached their stopping point from the previous evening, Sarah had several pages of running names and dates. Sighing contentedly, she grinned down at the knight before slumping into a nearby chair.

"Sir Didymus, I believe we have found the answer." she said.

"Excellent, my Lady! If I may ask, though…what was the question?" he asked.

She gave him a conspiratorial wink, "I think I know why Lord Kristoff wants that province back so desperately. Call Hoggle; I need a few more questions answered."

"Right away, my Lady," Didymus bowed before charging out of the library.

Sarah smacked the notepad against her leg, debating on telling Jareth her discovery now or saving it for that evening. Deciding she had time before Hoggle made it back to the castle, she headed to the throne room. She came bounding down the hallway and rushed out calling, "Jareth I found it –" before noticing the contingent standing before the throne.

"Ah, just in time," Jareth turned, beckoning her over to him. "Gentlemen, please let me introduce you to my Lady Sarah. She's been collecting the research I just mentioned." Turning to indicate the men staring in mild shock at the sleeveless girl he said, "Sarah, may I introduce you to Lord Kristoff, his son Lord Breanainn, their messenger Andreas, and their architect Sir Owen."

Sarah had dipped into a curtsy when her eyes shot up at the last name.

"Actually, your majesty, we already know each other. And if you'll excuse me for saying so, she's _my_ Sarah." Sarah felt a wave of nausea as her technically-not-yet-ex boyfriend grinned up at her. The icy rage she could feel emanating off Jareth didn't help any, but before he could retort the door burst open as Sir Didymus and Hoggle made their entrance. Assuming the anger on Jareth's face was directed at them, they both dipped into a low bow with mumbled, "Apologies your Majesty."

Breathing a small sigh of relief, Sarah tried to smooth the situation over, "Excuse me for interrupting, gentlemen." Turning to Jareth she said, "Your Majesty, Sir Didymus and Hoggle are here to aid me in my research. We'll just head back to the library now and leave you all to your meeting." Jareth gave a curt nod and Sarah gestured her two confused friends over.

"Actually, that's perfect, Lady Sarah," Lord Kristoff interrupted, "Sir Owen will be working with me on some architectural projects in the province. If it's not too much trouble, could you show him the library? I know Lord Jareth has some things in there that Owen would find most interesting."

"Oh, um, sure," Sarah stuttered. She took a long look at Lord Kristoff. His bold blue eyes betrayed nothing, _I know those eyes from somewhere _but she recognized Andreas from their beer in the province and knew it was no accident that Owen was with them. Owen, typically good natured, gave a small bow to Jareth and followed Sarah back to the library.

oOoOoOoOo

Hoggle and Sir Didymus stood around the desk uncomfortably, looking out over the stacks or anywhere other than at Sarah and Owen.

Owen, for his part, was looking around the library in awe. "You know, babe, I was worried when I didn't hear from you for 4 days, but now I get it."

"You…you know where we are?" she asked, surprised. He looked back at her as if she were crazy.

"Sure. I mean, I'm not familiar with the area – I've never been to any of these Eastern European countries, but I've always wanted to see some of that pre-USSR architecture. From what I've seen, we're lucky to have running water. Figures there wouldn't be any cell towers out here."

Sarah almost sagged in relief. She looked over at her friends, though, wondering how he could take in a dwarf and small fox in stride so easily.

"Glamour" Hoggle muttered, shuffling through papers and looking at her from the corner of his eye. She nodded, wondering briefly what Owen saw when he looked at her friends. Before she could think of asking, Owen swept her into a dip, leaning in to kiss her. Her arms went automatically around his neck to maintain balance, but she pushed him away, glancing a small kiss on his cheek, "I'm in work mode, Owen."

"Ah," he sighed, "Gotcha. Sorry babe, I just missed you. You've seemed distant lately, then rushed off to this job and…"

"I know," she cut him off, trying to keep the guilt at bay, "but you know how I get. We'll talk later."

"Sir Didymus," she called, "Can you help Owen find the architecture books he needs? I need to…interview Hoggle."

Owen trailed behind the small knight who, Sarah noticed gratefully, was moving at a much slower pace than when he worked with her.

Hoggle watched the two walk away for a minute before turning back to Sarah, "Girly I don't know what yer doin' but it's got trouble written all over it."

She dragged him over to a set of chairs, wanting nothing more than to talk about her current predicament, but instead said, "I've got no one but myself to blame. This is NOT going to be pretty. But Hoggle, if Lord Kristoff is willing to pull someone from my life Aboveground into this, then I am definitely on the right track!"

Hoggle patted her hand in an attempt to be comforting. He smiled down at her wrist when his fingers brushed across the emerald bracelet. "That…din't cause you trouble too, did it?" he asked.

"Actually," Sarah smiled, "Jareth said he was very impressed. Said you must have excellent taste. Not that he'll ever tell you directly," she added.

Hoggle brushed off the compliment with a wave of his hand, "Now, what do you need to ask me 'bout?"

"I need to know everything you know about Ainmire. How long has his tavern been there? How long has he been there? Oh, and have you ever been to a Beltain celebration there? I need to know all about it – who comes, what goes on, don't leave anything out."

oOoOoOoOo

As he had predicted, his meeting with Lord Kristoff and Breanainn felt like the rest of his life. Although, for reasons he could not have predicted to Sarah last night, he thought ruefully.

"Lord Jareth, do I have your attention?" Kristoff interrupted his train of thought. To be honest, he hadn't been able to pay attention for most of the last four hours. He had no idea what Kristoff had just asked him and he knew that was the point.

"I apologize, Lord Kristoff. Your arrival came in the middle of several…projects I'm working on. My attentions have been rather divided as of late." Jareth nodded at the men across the table from him. _How damaging would it really be to drop them in the Bog?_ he wondered.

"Of course, and we _do_ apologize for the inconvenience, but you can see from our state perspective how this has become a pressing matter," Kristoff continued, smiling slightly. Clearly Andreas' information had been right – Jareth would willingly pass off the whole province for the sake of that girl. Owen's price tag was well worth it.

"Gentlemen, I take this matter just as seriously as you, but as I mentioned in my first response, it takes time. I have hired the finest researcher available Above or Below and she has guaranteed me the answers by our previous deadline." Jareth told them.

"Well, as I mentioned earlier, we could avoid the whole debacle. We're happy to overlook the taxes collected, as it was clearly unintentional. I suggest we work together. Certainly, I want my son to garner experience ruling. A province such as this would be an excellent testing ground. But in time he will take over the Western Plains and I see no reason why our previous arrangement can't continue." Kristoff wheedled and Breanainn had the wisdom to remain silent, his eyes hopeful.

"It seems rather presumptuous to bring an architect," Jareth said pointedly, "We haven't even properly established ownership."

"Oh, but I thought this could help both our kingdoms. Let's bring in a fresh perspective to the land, build a vision that reflects the grandeur of both our states. Naturally, I would cover any expenses incurred," Kristoff said.

"How ironic that he is partnered with your researcher!" Breanainn added, "I'm sure they're working together beautifully."

"Indeed. What are the odds?" Jareth bit out, rage flowing through him until his hands shook slightly under the table. "Speaking of my Lady Sarah, I should go check on her progress. Would you two care to join me or should I have you shown to your rooms to freshen up?"

"Oh we would love to see the great Labyrinth library again." Kristoff rose, indicating to Breanainn to follow. The three of them materialized outside the library door.

"Rather exhausting, bringing a human Underground," Jareth mentioned. "You never think of the glamour one must expend."

"Oh, but…I heard the Lady Sarah had been here before! No glamour needed there, am I right?" Kristoff asked.

"What gave you the idea she had been here before?" Jareth asked, his voice measured.

"Oh, a thousand pardons. My mistake," Kristoff backed off, bowing his head slightly. Jareth said nothing, merely opened the doors to let the two men through.


	18. Chapter 18

Hoggle had been very helpful in filling in the gaps for Sarah. Thanking him, she rose and piled her hair on top of her head, securing it with a pencil. She grabbed a couple of volumes off the desk, intending to help Sir Didymus replace them when she heard Owen's sharp intake of breath behind her.

"Um, wow…babe, when did this start?" he asked, his voice uncertain.

She turned back to him, her brow furrowed in mild confusion, when she saw Hoggle and Sir Didymus staring at her wide-eyed.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, realization dawning, "um, I…just felt like a little wardrobe change."

Owen frowned at her, "In all the time I've known you it's been the same work wardrobe. You always covered your tattoo, said it was for you not others to admire. Hell, I only see it when you're –" he cut off suddenly, remembering they had an audience.

"I guess you could say I had a change of heart," she tried to be nonchalant, but the shocked stares weren't helping. "Whatever, a girl can change her mind. Come on Sir Didymus, we can get a little more done before dinner." With that, she left a confused Owen and a startled Hoggle still staring at her exposed back.

Sarah and Didymus continued working, Hoggle standing by to replace a book or organize Sarah's notes as she handed off pages to him. It would have been pleasant had her mind not kept returning to Owen engrossed in blueprints up at the desk. She knew she'd have to get him to tell her what Kristoff wanted… as well as break up with him. Something told her Jareth would not be pleased with her inviting Owen to her room later. When she felt that icy rage in the throne room she was reminded of just how much power Jareth wielded. Inadvertently, she had placed Owen in very real danger. And she was still going to break his heart.

"My Lady?" Sir Didymus asked. Sarah realized she had been staring into space and her thoughts were completely derailed.

"Let's pack it in, guys. I think I've hit a stopping point." she sighed. The three friends headed back up to the desk when she heard the doors to the library open.

"Owen!" Lord Kristoff boomed as he strode in, Breanainn and Jareth right behind him, "I hope your little reunion has not distracted you too much."

Owen looked up from the blueprints he was studying and gave a small smile in Sarah's direction, "Don't worry, sir. Sarah and I are both workhorses when given a job."

Sarah wasn't certain, but she thought she saw Jareth give a small sigh of relief. Choosing to ignore the two men, she leaned over the desk and began highlighting her notes. She couldn't see Kristoff stop midstride to stare at her back, a knowing grin crossing his face before returning to its mask of indifference. Breanainn, it seemed, was not so subtle.

"My Lady Sarah, is such artwork typical where you're from?" he blurted out. Both his father and Jareth glared at his outburst.

Sarah turned and smiled sweetly at him, "I wouldn't know, Lord Breanainn. Where I come from it's considered rude to ask."

He had the decency to blush, clearly not the experienced politician his father was, and mumble, "My apologies."

"Well," Jareth interrupted the awkward silence, smiling a little now that the tables seemed turned back in his favor, "I'll have you gentlemen shown to your quarters to freshen up. We will reconvene over dinner." Ushering them out the door, Sarah saw three goblins waiting to lead the men away. In the opposite direction of her own quarters, she noted.

"Sarah," he turned back to her, "a word, if I may." Leading her back into the library, he shut the door firmly behind them. She waited patiently, but he didn't look at her. Rather, he wandered over to the desk, shuffling papers. "Tell me, love, how did your afternoon with Owen go?" he drawled out the name as if it were distasteful.

"We were working Jareth. We didn't get a chance to talk." she told him, her voice firm.

Jareth slammed his fist on the desk, finally turning his gaze to her, "You didn't think to mention the last couple days to him? Didn't think you should tell him who has been sharing your bed?" he snarled.

"Oh, you mean dump him in front of an audience? Because I'm not being cruel enough already?" she asked, waving her hands in frustration. "I'm telling him tonight, after dinner. It's not his fault he got wrapped up in this, it's mine. There's no need to rub his face in it; he's a good man!"

"Oh, so you would protect his feelings because he's _good_. You have no problem throwing someone's heart back in their face if they're the villain!" he spat.

The look on his face flashed her memory back to their final

confrontation in the Escher room. The retort died immediately on her lips and her face softened. Oddly, the anger in Jareth's eyes intensified. She realized a second too late that he mistook her expression for pity. Muttering a curse under his breath, he stormed past her, only to be startled when she grabbed his arm and wrenched him back against the desk.

Sarah pushed him back until she had effectively trapped his body with her own. Glaring up at him, she gave him the full force of her fiery resolve.

"Yes, Jareth, because he is _good_ and I am _not_. Because he does not understand me nor have any idea of what I am truly capable of. What's the point? You want me to break him to satisfy your own petty jealousy?" Jareth's eyes flashed in warning, but she cut him off, "Get over it."

"You are cruel," he hissed.

"Then we're well-matched, you and I," she smirked, raising a hand to cup his cheek, "What other man could face that without breaking?"

He kissed her roughly, his lips harsh against hers. She could taste the anger on his tongue, but it was quickly morphing into a heat of another kind. Their mouths wrestled for dominance, kisses mixed with bites. His hands ripped her top off her shoulders, exposing her breasts. Sarah moaned into his mouth, rubbing her hips against him insistently. He growled in response when they were both startled by a knock on the door.

"Shit," he mumbled. Sarah let out a small laugh despite herself. Reluctantly, she pulled away, drawing her top back up over her shoulders. At the second timid knock Jareth growled, "Come!"

A short goblin cracked the door open and peered his head in. At his King's glare he ducked slightly and said, "Dinner is ready, Sire." before pulling the door shut and making a hasty exit.

Sighing, Jareth ran his eyes over her body regretfully. With a wave of his hand they were both dressed in finer attire. She took a moment to admire the dinner jacket he wore, dark green threads picking up the light so that it seemed to spark when he moved. Sarah looked down to see her own clothing had been exchanged for an emerald green dress, the bodice low-cut in front and back with flowing sleeves. She quirked an eyebrow at him as he held out his arm to escort her.

"I thought we agreed on the wardrobe changes," she said.

He grinned wolfishly at her, knowing he was blatantly ignoring their deal, "Humor me."

They entered the dining room to find Jareth's uninvited guests awaiting them. The four men stood at their entrance, Owen frowning at Sarah as she let Jareth escort her to the table. Jareth placed her in the seat to his right, Lord Kristoff to his left. Owen quickly walked around the table to sit at Sarah's left. Jareth pretended not to notice.

As the courses were presented, the table mostly ate in silence. About halfway through the main course, Breanainn looked over to Owen and asked, "Tell me, Sir Owen, how did you and Lady Sarah meet?"

Owen smiled, setting his hand briefly on Sarah's thigh. "We met on a job much like this one, actually. Sarah was in England researching the genealogy of a gentleman there and I was employed to add a wing to his estate. I don't normally take residential jobs, but anytime you update a historical building there are interesting challenges to meet. In hindsight, it was the best decision I could have made." He looked over at Sarah who was trying desperately not to choke on her wine.

"How charming for you to find yourselves working together again," Breanainn encouraged.

"Well, don't get the wrong idea – we both take our work very seriously. But the nature of our jobs has allowed us to travel together often, which is great." Owen agreed.

"Yes, and Lady Sarah I'm sure will make a wonderful tour guide," Kristoff added. Sarah's eyes shot across the table to meet his stare. "After all, you were here before, were you not?"

Owen glanced back and forth between Sarah, her cheeks growing red with anger, and Kristoff's feigned innocent stare. "Sarah?"

"I think Lord Kristoff is presuming too much, Owen." Sarah ground out.

"Then why are you getting angry?" he asked in return.

Lord Kristoff broke in with a wide smile and a dismissive wave of his hand, "Never mind that, Owen, the lady is simply being modest. You see, she's something of a celebrity out here. Lord Jareth has a challenge…a contest, if you will, that is only issued to _deserving_ applicants –"

"Enough!" Jareth hissed, his face pale. The sound silenced everyone at the table. Owen kept staring at Sarah, his eyes wide in disbelief. Sarah couldn't look at him, could barely keep the guilt from forcing her to vomit up her dinner. The air was charged with tension and something she was beginning to identify as raw power, like the smell in the air after a lightning strike.

Without a note of apology, Lord Kristoff turned to Jareth, changing the subject as if they had been discussing the weather, "Lord Jareth, with your permission I would like Andreas to take Owen on a tour of the province. Let him see the architecture first hand." Jareth nodded sharply in agreement. Anything to get that boy away from Sarah.

"Actually," Sarah interrupted, "I'll be going back that way as well with Hoggle. If Andreas would be more useful to you here, Hoggle is an excellent tour guide."

She imagined Kristoff weighing his options mentally. She knew he wanted to push her and Owen together to keep Jareth off-balance. But would he be bold enough to trust her without Andreas' eyes and ears? His mind seemingly made up, Kristoff nodded, "An excellent suggestion my Lady. I believe I'll take you up on it."

It was clear that dinner was over when Jareth pushed back from the table. "Gentlemen, it has been a long day. I suggest we retire." Quickly, Sarah turned to Owen and said, "I'll follow you to your room. We need to talk."


	19. Chapter 19

As she suspected, Owen's room was as far from hers as it could be without existing outside the castle. She rolled her eyes as she followed Owen inside. The two had been silent the entire way; only after Owen shut the door behind her did he turn, his eyes full of hurt to ask, "Why did you lie about being here before?"

"Owen, it's not that simple –" she began, but he cut her off.

"Bullshit! Right there at the dinner table, you _didn't want me to know_! You almost made a scene with my employer, which is bad enough, you give me the cold shoulder all through dinner, which is worse, and then you fucking lied!" Owen, usually so calm, was yelling by the end, "Sarah, baby, we have a life together! Why did you keep this from me?"

Sarah tried to keep the tears at bay, but her eyes watered nonetheless. This was going to be so much worse than she imagined. "Owen, I couldn't tell you. I've never told anyone! It's…it's not a good story."

Owen grabbed her shoulders, forcing her to look him in the eye, "Whatever it is, you can tell me. But I think I deserve to know."

Sarah sighed, her shoulders slumping under the weight of his grasp. She thought about how to explain while still protecting the secret of the Underground. _A few half-truths won't hurt him now_.

"You know how my family travelled sometimes for Dad's work? Well, I have been here before…when I was 15. I was Dad and Karen's go-to babysitter anytime they went out and one night I was sick of Toby's crying and just a complete fucking brat and I… I gave Toby away."

Owen frowned at her, "But you love Toby. You would never do that! And Sarah, that doesn't even make sense, you can't do that in this day and age!"

"Listen to me, Owen, you said it yourself: Things are different here than in the world we're used to. Jareth… finds homes for unwanted children. I gave Toby to him. I regretted it immediately and I fought to get him back. I DID get him back! But I don't tell people about it!"

Owen pulled his hands back, taking a couple steps away from her. He stared at her in disbelief, slack jawed and silent for several moments, "That's…that's horrible. How could you…? Sarah that's monstrous! You would abandon your baby brother in some backwoods Soviet nowhere?"

"Owen, I didn't understand what I was doing until it was too late! And again, _I got him back!_ And I grew up. That has to count for something!" Sarah pleaded.

Owen turned away from her, pacing the length of the room in silence. When it seemed he had nothing more to say, she wiped away the tear that managed to escape and told him, "I don't think we should see each other anymore."

That got his attention. "Sarah, wait. We don't have to break up over this, I just need time to deal."

"No, it's not just that. I don't want you to have to _learn_ to accept this. We're not right for each other, Owen. You said yourself I've been distant. I thought if we moved in together it would work but it hasn't. I can't do this."

"Wait, what? I thought you wanted to move in together? So, what, I was some fucking experiment to see if you could manage a real relationship?" he yelled.

"No! I mean, yes, it was something new for me but I really thought it was the right decision! I'm sorry!"

"Oh, you're sorry. Fantastic. I try to build a life with a woman I love and it turns out I'm just a testing ground to prove you're incapable of an adult relationship!" The hurt in his eyes twisted at Sarah's gut. He pointed his finger in her face and ground out, "You're a heartless bitch, Sarah Williams."

She sighed, her eyes focused on the ground. Her voice wavered when she told him, "You're right. And now you see why we can't be together anymore." With that, she turned and left the room, felt him slam the door behind her.

When she got back to her own room to find it empty she didn't know if she should be relieved or hurt. She shrugged out of her dress, leaving it in a pile on the floor and crawled into bed. She lay there for a couple hours, staring blankly at the moon outside her balcony. She had almost given up on sleep altogether when she felt someone slide into bed beside her. A warm arm wrapped over her, pulling her back against his chest.

"I couldn't sleep," Jareth murmured into her hair.

"Me either," she sighed.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

Sarah sighed again, letting her arm drape over his, "It was harder than I expected. Not the breaking up part," she added quickly when she felt his intake of breath, "but hearing what he thought of me. It was all true, I suppose, but that doesn't make it any easier."

Jareth kissed the hollow behind her ear, "I think you are a miracle, Sarah Williams. And I won't let you forget it."

Sarah let out a small smile, "You'd better not. I think I've had enough break-ups to last a lifetime."

They both found sleep came easily after that.

oOoOoOoOo

Sarah woke up the next morning with a lighter heart than she imagined she would have. She went through her yoga routine, acknowledging her thoughts, letting them exist, and letting them go. She felt renewed as she finished her prayer pose, blowing a kiss to the unconscious blond in the bed before stepping into the shower.

Finishing her morning ablutions, Sarah pulled out the borrowed outfit from her first trip to the province. She was relieved to note it smelled a little more like her than him this time. Since Jareth was still sleeping, she decided the chocolate croissant was hers and slipped into the hallway towards the kitchen.

The kitchen was a surprising bustle of activity. Normally Sarah was alone but this morning there were goblins preparing trays of bread and fruit. _I've never been offered breakfast in bed_ she noted. She saw one goblin rustling through the pile of croissants on the table, clearly looking for one in particular. Sarah tapped him on the shoulder, pointing to the half-eaten chocolate croissant in her hand. The goblin jumped with a small "Meek!" before running out of the kitchen. She shrugged, amused. _We're going to have to talk about employee rights_.

She met Hoggle in the throne room. Owen joined them a short while later, nodding to Hoggle and pointedly ignoring Sarah. He looked like he hadn't slept at all. Sarah wondered how they would make the journey without transporting, but when they reached the former dead-end that worked as a portal, she saw instead an arched gateway. It seemed the Labyrinth was prepared to maintain its secrets when necessary.

Owen was admiring the town as they walked through. He still hadn't spoken to her, although he asked Hoggle questions now and then regarding the timeline of the obvious architectural changes. Gritting her teeth against the awkwardness of the situation, she turned to Hoggle and told him, "I'm heading to Ainmire's pub. I'll meet up with you two later," before trekking out on her own.

Ainimire looked up in surprise when she entered the pub. "Lady Sarah, this is a pleasant surprise but we're not really open for business this early." He gave her a quirky grin, "I hope you're not hitting the bottle so soon, my Lady."

Sarah smiled easily. His blue eyes were comforting, even in this strange environment. "Actually, I came to speak to you about a project I'm working on."

"Ah! Glad to help," he set the bar rag down and motioned to a table in the empty dining room. "Would you care for some coffee?"

"That would be great," she said. As he busied himself with the two cups she pulled her notepad out of her carryall. Tapping her pencil idly against the table with one hand, she accepted the steaming mug as he settled in across from her.

"That's a nervous habit," he said, eyeing the pencil in her hand. "I don't make you uncomfortable, do I?"

"No, but I'm afraid I might make you uncomfortable, and that's really not my intention," she told him. At his raised eyebrows she continued, "According to the last census taken, you should be 37 years old. But you're not, are you Ainmire? You're much older than that."

She was prepared for him to get angry or throw her out, but instead he sipped his coffee carefully, eyeing her over the rim of the mug. Setting it back down, he looked her over cautiousy and answered with another question, "You're not here to learn about the merchant trade. You're not from the Underground at all, are you?"

"No, I'm not," she agreed, "I'm a professional researcher hired by King Jareth to determine the current ownership of this province. I'm here because I think Lord Kristoff of the Western Plains is up to something, and I think you are a lynchpin in this whole situation."

Ainmire leaned back, absorbing all she told him. "You're certainly to the point, aren't you?"

"Ainmire, I have about 9 days left to figure out what's going on if I'm to help you. I think I have most of the pieces put together, but I need you to confirm my suspicions." she said.

"How did you figure it out?" he asked.

"Some of it was luck. Your mention of Fae leaving bastard children here and witnessing your magic pretty much put two and two together for me. But from what I've read, it's not a guarantee that the Fae side will manifest in a child."

"No," he agreed, "it might show up in their coloring, or slightly pointed ears, but almost never magic. At best, people find them more… charming, they're more drawn to their personality or beauty."

"And it does not guarantee a longer lifespan," she prodded. At his nod she continued, "So you are the exception to the rule. You have worked very hard to hide it. There's only one reason I can deduce for you turning out differently than the others."

"My father is royalty," he whispered. Sarah nodded in understanding.

"How long have you known?" she asked.

"All my life. My mother told me, she helped me keep it secret until she died. How did you know?" he asked again.

"Your mother named you, didn't she?" When he nodded she continued, "Where I come from, Ainmire means 'Great Lord.' Each time you changed your name it was some variation on that meaning. And you did it like clockwork every 80 years. Once I recognized the pattern, it was easy to follow. Although, it was luck that your name caught my ear. If you were using a different variation when I met you I might not have caught on so quickly."

"So why does it matter now? I've been running this pub for what feels like forever, watching children grow up, grow old and die all around me. I've watched this place I love change hands time and again and suddenly I'm a threat? It makes no sense. What worse hell could be inflicted upon me than outliving everyone I've ever known and loved?" he slammed his coffee mug on the table, gesturing at the bar around him angrily.

Sarah bowed her head at his outburst, realizing this was probably the first time in centuries he'd had a chance to express it. "I think Kristoff either just realized who you were or he expected you to die off sooner." At Ainmire's horrified look she rushed on, "I know that sounds callous, and I'm sorry!"

Ainmire shook his head, "This is why I warned you not to trust them, my Lady. What sort of monster actually hopes for the death of his child, bastard or not?"

"Well, see, here's the lynchpin. If the census records are accurate, you're technically Kristoff's oldest son. I am by no means an expert in Fae politics, but I believe that makes you an heir to the throne." she told him.

"Well, I don't want it!" he exclaimed, then his voice went flat as his face turned ashen, "But it doesn't matter. Kristoff wants ownership of this province so he can kill me quietly. So he can bury his dirty secret under the rug."

All the pieces came together just as Sarah suspected. Reaching over, she carefully placed her hands over his, "And now that we know the reasons, we can formulate a plan."


	20. Chapter 20

Of course, that was the moment Hoggle and Owen chose to walk through the tavern door. Owen took one look at Sarah's hands over Ainmire's, saw her leaning conspiratorially toward him, and smashed his fist into the doorframe. Sarah and Ainmire looked up, startled. Hoggle just shook his head, turned on his heel and marched right back out the door.

"Is _this_ why you were in such a hurry to end our relationship? For God's sake, you haven't even moved out yet! Is this guy gonna fly back to the States so I can watch him move out your furniture?"

"You've completely misunderstood, sir," Ainmire rose, extending his hand to Owen, "the Lady Sarah is assisting me with a family matter."

Owen, who Sarah had rarely seen lose his temper or show any sign of rudeness, ignored Ainmire's hand and continued ranting, "Wow, you're just a little Mother Teresa here, aren't you? Helping everyone else so you can justify walking away from _us_!"

"Owen, it's a job. You need to calm down; you don't know what you're talking about." She purposely kept her voice level, hoping he would take the hint and settle down.

"No, it's more than that – stop bullshitting me! What is it about this place that has such a hold over you? You up and leave me with little more than a note, you LIE to me about being here before, you're sneaking around with THIS guy –"

"Wait, you've been here before?" Ainmire interrupted, "You're _the_ Sarah? But you couldn't have been more than a girl…"

"Seriously?" Owen threw his hands up in exasperation, "You're some sort of fucking legend? We can't get a cell signal out here but everyone we meet knows you won some contest over a decade ago?"

"Some contest?" It was Ainmire's turn to look affronted. "You should know the Labyrinth is no mere contest. Lady Sarah is, as far as I know, the only person to best it. She is more than a legend, sir, she is royalty!"

"Owen, again you need to calm down and let me explain," Sarah continued, then stopped and turned to Ainmire, "Wait, what?"

Even Owen was startled into silence at that remark.

"Has you all yelled enough for one day? 'Cause I thinks I can explain some stuffs to ya." Hoggle waddled up to the table, carefully balancing a tray with 4 pints on it.

"It's, um, a little early for that don't you think?" Owen asked, eyeing the large pint glass with uncertainty.

"It's mid-day and I think we alls need it." Hoggle grunted in response.

Sarah let out a short laugh, grabbed a pint and raised it, "To my friend Hoggle, who always comes to my rescue when I need it most." The men said nothing, but Ainmire clinked his glass to Hoggle's good-naturedly.

They sat in silence for a moment, appreciating their brews, before Hoggle turned to Owen. "You feelin' a slight ache in yer head, a little out a sorts since ya got here?"

Owen paused and looked at Hoggle thoughtfully, "Actually, yes, how did you know?"

"S'altitude," he said before taking another gulp, "messes with yer senses. Best cure is ale. It gots nutrients or some such."

"I…actually feel much better, "Owen admitted, smiling a little. He took another drink, then extended his hand to Ainmire, "Name's Owen. Sorry for the misunderstanding. It's been a rough couple of days."

"No apologies necessary," Ainmire smiled as he shook Owen's hand, "It's not my business but I'd be in a similar state had I been in your situation."

"Mind if I top this off?" Owen asked, standing. At Ainmire's nod, he walked behind the bar to pour another pint.

Hoggle quickly leaned toward Sarah, "It's the glamour – makes 'em edgy and sharp. Like their brain knows somethin's up but can't figure it out."

"So why did the beer work and not the food? We had wine at dinner?" Sarah asked.

"Most likely they brought in food from your home, my lady," Ainmire interjected, "They can't control what effects Fey food would have on him."

Sarah blanched, "Wait, is this beer dangerous to him? Is something going to happen?"

"No, no, we're not Fey, my lady. Everything brewed here is of the earth. Not your earth, but it's still very safe. It will acclimate him." Ainmire explained.

They all leaned back and took another drink as Owen returned to the table and sat back down across from Ainmire. Hoggle set his beer down before starting, "Ok, now I think I can sort some stuffs out for ya."

"Yes, when Ainmire said I was royalty I was really hoping he was being figurative." Sarah said pointedly, glaring at her friend of 13 years. "Because otherwise that is a BIG thing to keep from me all this time."

"All this time, why would he…" Owen trailed off, looking back and forth between the two. "You know what? I give up. I don't know you at all. Let's just let this complete stranger tell me about the woman I've been sharing a home with for the past year."

Hoggle rolled his eyes. "You done feelin' sorry for yerself or should I get another pint?"


	21. Chapter 21

"Sarah and me's been friends since her first visit. Me and Didymus and another bloke you ain't met helped her gets her brother back." Hoggle glossed over the details quickly. When Owen nodded but stayed silent Hoggle turned to Sarah. "The royalty bit's kinda rumour, but it gots some truth to it. Its not likes ya rule the Labyrinth, but yer a Champion. Peoples will listen to ya. The gob…peoples would follow yer orders. And the Labyrinth coulds never fool ya again."

"So I could just stroll through it, no problem," Sarah asked, a little excited despite her skepticism. "Hoggle, why did you never tell me all this?"

"Well, fer one, we jus' thought if ya came back it would be 'cause Jareth explained it to ya." Hoggle shrugged.

"I can't imagine why Jareth would want me to know all that after I kicked his ass." Sarah laughed, "I only just learned I'm the first person to beat it."

"Well…" Hoggle trailed off uncomfortably, "there's some…other details he shoulds prob'ly tell ya hi'self."

Sarah's mind latched on to that and prepared to question her friend anew, til she noticed Owen staring at the two of them. "Yes…I should probably ask him myself later," she grumbled. _He is in SO much trouble when I get back!_

"So Sarah is famous because you guys don't have the internet here and have to amuse yourselves running giant hedge mazes for babies? I think it's safe to say Communism is officially the worst thing to happen to civilization in the 80s." Owen remarked. "Fine. So how is Sarah helping you?" he asked Ainmire.

"We were just discussing that when you came in," Ainmire pointed out. Owen had the decency to look chagrined. "There are politics to consider and we were attempting to chart the safest course."

Owen let out a bark of laughter, "Sarah HATES politics! Unless her advice is 'avoidance' I don't know how much help she's going to be."

The shock of his insult was like a slap in the face. "I am an intelligent woman with a Master's degree. I am respected as one of the best in my field! How can you possibly say that about me?"

"Babe, you are a woman of many talents, but I know you. You have always avoided politics, even in your work. I just don't believe you're the go-to person for this stuff." Owen shrugged, as if it were the most obvious conclusion in the world.

"You… you don't _believe_ in me?" she demanded.

"I believe you have many, many talents. But baby this is not one of them."

"Don't call me 'baby'," she spit out, her voice cold. "I don't _believe_ that's appropriate for us anymore."

The table sat in awkward silence as the four drank their beers. Owen looked both heartbroken and enraged, but said nothing. Sarah just looked angry while Hoggle and Ainmire tried to look anywhere else in the room.

"Owen…" Ainmire finally broke the silence, "what brings you to our little province anyway?"

"I'm an architect," Owen explained, "and Kristoff hired me on to survey the city for some new additions, insert some modernity while maintaining the historic architecture, that sort of thing."

"Fascinating," Ainmire said, but Sarah saw the curve of distaste at the corner of his mouth. "And what are your thoughts so far?"

"The biggest challenge I see is a lack of theme in the existing buildings. That's to be expected, given the decades you've spent without influence from the outside world and the internal conflict." Ainmire nodded in agreement, suddenly perking up to Owen's insightful perspective. "As a professional, my advice would be to form a committee, speak with the townsfolk and determine the direction they wish to proceed in."

"That's exactly what I would propose as well!" Ainmire grinned, getting up to pour them all another round. After he passed out the pints and sat back down, Owen continued, "Now, I am not a resident and I'm only briefly familiar with your history. But as an architect I feel compelled to point out that these buildings are historical markers. They create a visual timeline that you cannot replace once you get rid of them."

"Then I'm sure you're aware, there are parts of our history we would just as soon forget. Perhaps constant reminders in our town just add insult to injury." Ainmire pointed out.

Owen nodded in concession, "Again, I don't live here. I don't carry your history with me. But think of how your history has shaped you as a people. Don't you feel stronger, more cohesive because of it? You can destroy the physical reminders of the things you hate, but it won't change what happened to your generation, it won't make that go away. Perhaps you should look at them as symbols of what you've overcome."

Sarah watched the two men in amazement. She knew Owen assumed he was talking to a first-generation post-Soviet eastern European, but she saw his words resonating with Ainmire. Despite her anger, she had to admit Owen was a good man. _And there were reasons beyond sex that I fell in love with him_ she mentally acknowledged.

Owen glanced at her, recognized the softness in her face and reached over to squeeze her hand. He smiled and mouthed, "I'm sorry." Sarah smiled and squeezed his hand in return. _Maybe this can still be ok_ she thought.


	22. Chapter 22

"Owen, you can't tell Kristoff about meeting Ainmire," Sarah warned as they finished their beers. "Kristoff is part of the problem I'm trying to help Ainmire with."

Owen frowned thoughtfully before asking, "You're already mired in this situation aren't you?"

"Yeah, but it was my choice." she admitted. "I know you don't know him, but Jareth's the good guy in this situation."

"What situation? I was just hired to do what I do best: design, build and fix buildings. I have no interest in their fight!" He shook his head when Ainmire indicated a refill on his glass. "Look, you two figure out your little conspiracy theory. I'll keep my mouth shut and get back to work now." Rising, he turned to Hoggle, "I can find my way around. I'll meet up with you guys later."

"So…I take it he was recently your paramour?" Ainmire ventured after Owen left the tavern.

"What was your first clue?" Sarah shook her head ruefully. "He never should have been brought into this. Kristoff did it to mess with Jareth or distract me or something so we couldn't figure out what he was up to."

"If you don't mind me prying into your personal life, my lady, this is precisely what I warned you about," Ainmire reminded her.

"Hey, if anyone can help you, it's Sarah. Nevermind the rest," Hoggle told him.

"Fair enough," Ainmire conceded, "what next?"

oOoOoOoOo

The trio returned to the castle by mid-afternoon, subdued by the revelations of the morning, but less angry than before. Sarah wondered briefly how often Owen would need a pint of beer to keep the glamour from ruining his temper. Assuming Jareth was in a meeting with the two Western Plains men, she headed back to the library. Owen turned toward his quarters but paused to tell her, "I just need to grab some of my gear. Would you be ok if I share some workspace for awhile?"

Sarah smiled, "No problem. Can you find your way alright?"

Owen nodded before heading off. Sarah couldn't help but notice a lightness after he left. Breathing deeply, she walked into the library and stopped short in the doorway. Breanainn was rustling through her notes, although he didn't seem to be making much headway.

"You know, I write in shorthand specifically for this reason." she said, startling the young man into dropping the sheaves of paper across the floor.

"Lady Sarah, back so soon?" he stumbled, looking around for another exit, "I thought I might assist you while you were out researching."

"Did you now?" she asked, circling him the way Jareth had once stalked her in the Labyrinth. Seeing him visibly flustered she took a gamble, "Well since you're being _so_ helpful, why don't you tell me why your father can't wait another week while I finish my work? It couldn't have anything to do with your half-brother, could it?"

Breanainn's eyes widened in horror before narrowing in rage, "Don't you dare associate that half-breed with my family. I don't care if you are Jareth's whore; I will not be spoken to like that!"

Sarah grinned over gritted teeth, "And you think you're ready to rule? You can't even handle a simple confrontation with a woman. I think you've perfectly exemplified the _quality_ of your upbringing."

"I'll show you quality, bitch," Breanainn growled, grabbing her arm with one hand and raising the other to hit her. He didn't get a chance before a strong hand gripped his fist and wrenched it behind his back.

"What are you doing?" Breanainn yelled at Owen, "You work for me!"

"No, you sniveling little shit, I work for your father, who I suspect is man enough to know not to hit women," Owen stated, appearing totally calm. Sarah could see the rage behind his eyes, though, and felt relieved they had come to an understanding earlier that day. He shoved Breanainn back before releasing his grip, causing the young man to stumble and fall to the floor.

"Are you alright?" he asked Sarah, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her to his chest. Sarah rubbed her bicep where Breanainn grabbed her. "Yeah, bruised but not broken," she smiled up at Owen.

"That's my girl," he smiled, kissing her forehead before turning back to Breanainn on the floor. "I'll be having a conversation with my employer about this, rest assured."

"I'm sure I'll be interested in hearing all about it," a voice interrupted. Sarah and Owen looked up to see Kristoff and Jareth standing in the doorway. Kristoff kept his face mostly in check, as always, but Sarah detected an amused tone underlying the statement. Realizing Owen's arm was still around her shoulders, she quickly marched toward the door.

"I'm going to get some air. I don't want to be anywhere near that creep," she spat out. "Jareth, I'd like to talk to you about my findings today, if you're available."

Silently he turned and followed her, closing the library doors behind him. They could hear yelling commence behind the closed doors.

"Do your 'findings' include telling me why I walked in on you embracing the man I thought you were done with?" Jareth asked in clipped tones as they walked down the hallway. He didn't touch her, just matched her stride for stride.

"Why do I feel like every time I turn around I'm explaining myself to someone?" she asked, shaking her head.

Jareth sighed and stopped in the middle of the hallway. "Then tell me this: has Kristoff's plan worked? Are you going to return to your life with Owen?"

Sarah turned back and quirked an eyebrow at him, "You know, for a king you're awfully insecure." She immediately saw a darkness forming behind his eyes, but before he could formulate a response she grabbed his collar and pulled him to her, kissing him hard. "Is it so impossible for you to believe I love you?"

He didn't answer, just reclaimed her mouth and pushed her back until she was braced against the wall. His hands gripped her hips, tugging until she wrapped her legs around his waist. Through the haze of lust Sarah was able to use one hand tangled in his hair to pull him back slightly. "We should find a room…" she began.

"My castle, my rules," he grinned, one hand deftly removing her belt. Almost beyond caring, Sarah rolled her hips over his maddeningly hard flesh. Nipping along his neck she made one last attempt, "Are you certain you want me here, naked, on display for those three?"

With a flick of his wrist they reappeared in a room Sarah did not recognize. As she was still against a wall but no longer in a hallway, she went to work on the buttons of his shirt. Jareth had already snapped her bra free and was rolling one taut nipple between his finger and thumb. "I am sending them away immediately," he murmured as he ran his mouth along her collarbone.

"What? No, we –" Sarah began to protest, before Jareth cut her off with another kiss. Giving in, she tightened her grip around his waist and let herself get lost in the feel of his mouth on hers.

Panting, Jareth finally pulled back, cupping her cheek with one hand, "I do _not_ care. Not about plots, not about the money, none of it. I want them gone and I want you _here_ with _me_. Everything else can burn." The intensity in his gaze cut off her response before it had a chance to leave her throat. There was something so fevered, so close to madness, she was shocked into silence. Instead, she met his gaze with her own, allowing her own passion to reflect there. Rather than calm him, his fervor seemed to intensify. As he kissed her again, Sarah was overwhelmed by her own need to possess, to feel him. As if their minds were in tune, the remainder of their clothing disappeared. Without preamble, Jareth buried himself in her up to the hilt. Sarah gasped in momentary shock, then quickly began grinding her hips to meet his thrusts. She came almost immediately, the intensity of her climax rivaling the shock of his sudden penetration. In deference to her, Jareth slowed slightly. As she rode out the wave of her orgasm, she realized he was speaking to her.

"I have waited a _lifetime_," he murmured, thrusting hard in time with his words, "for you. _Only_ you. Kingdoms _fall,_ stars _burn_ out…" Sarah felt herself getting close again, the sound of his voice driving her wild as much as his body was. "I will destroy _anything_ that would come between _us_."

"Tell me," she gasped.

"I _love_ you, Sarah," he told her. She groaned in response, kissing him. "I _want_ you, _always_. I _love_ you…" he trailed off as she came again, his own orgasm overpowering any ability to speak.

oOoOoOoOoOo

It was quite some time before they collected themselves. Almost reluctant to disentangle herself, Sarah let her legs slip from around his waist and settle back on the floor. Jareth steadied her, his hands strong around her waist, as he continued running kisses along her neck. She could tell he too was loathe to break the post-coital silence. If anyone could stop the rest of the world from intruding through sheer force of will, she thought, it is this man.

Leaving their clothing piled on the floor, he led her to the nearby couch, wrapping his arms around her as he settled her against him. She took a moment to look around. A guest room, she decided. Following her eyes, he grinned down at her.

"Yes, I do intend to ravage you in every room of this castle," he murmured in her ear. She shivered at the implication, smiling back at him.

"As soon as I send those interlopers back to their own homes" he finished, all seriousness now.

"About that," she began, ignoring the tightening of his arms around her, "we need to see this through."

"I thought I made myself perfectly clear –"

"No!" Sarah cupped his face in her hands, forcing him to meet her eyes, "we are partners or we are nothing." She could see the turmoil renewing itself in his eyes but she forged on, "I am _yours _just as much as you are _mine_, Jareth, but I will not have you build a wall around me!" She slid her hands down to cover his heart. "I know this is new, and that's a frightening thing to place trust in, but wouldn't you rather I choose to stay than you try to keep me?"

He paused, eying her as if he didn't quite recognize the question, before kissing her again and breathing, "Yes," against her lips.

"Now, let me tell you what I've learned," and she caught him up on her trip to the province, including her conversation with Breanainn.


	23. Chapter 23

After finishing her story, Sarah paused, waiting for his reaction. Jareth took a moment, considering, before telling her, "Again, I believe you're rubbing off on me. There are still politics to consider, and a way of going about things, but I believe in this instance a direct approach would be much more beneficial."

"Oh thank God," she said, "this cloak-and-dagger business was wearing me out."

"I thought I was doing that," he said, cocking an eyebrow at her.

She grinned in response, "You know, I don't mind that expression so much when you're not trying to instill fear in me."

"Nonsense. I was just trying to _warn_ you. It was terribly gentlemanly of me, I think."

"Uh-huh, so the whole 'Fear me,' part of our confrontation? That was just coincidence?" she asked.

His eyes took a far away look for a moment, "No, that was something else."

"On that note," she ventured, bringing his eyes back to her, "Hoggle mentioned something you should tell me. Apparently there are… things concerning my Champion status you haven't told me about. Don't look _miffed_," she said when his lips pursed at her, "he's more on your side than you give him credit. Now tell me."

"I had hoped to bring this up at a more appropriate time," he said.

"We're naked and you've just fucked me senseless. If you can't tell me now, what will it take? World War III?"

Jareth rolled his eyes, laughing a little, "Your crude description aside, I suppose you're right. I assume he told you your rights as Champion where the Labyrinth is concerned?" At her nod he continued, "There are larger rights as well, rights that extend beyond my kingdom…"

When he paused she let out a breath of frustration. "Just, bear with me," he asked, "You don't fully understand the politics of the Underground. There are rules in place, rules that have existed for millennia not just to protect it from your world, but to protect our world from ourselves. The Fae can be capricious and that can be dangerous."

Sarah wisely kept her comment to herself on that one.

"If one were to, say, fall in love with a mortal, and bring them here, that could have long-reaching affects. There are tests, councils would be brought in, it's a trying, ugly thing. And at the end, the couple may find themselves far less in love than they started. Or worse, the Fae half of the couple may well have moved on to someone else. Then you have a larger problem." Sarah nodded in understanding, curious where this was going.

"Being a Champion bypasses all that. It means you are my equal, one of us. It… allows me to make you my Queen without question." he stated.

Sarah gaped at him in shock. The pieces clicked together like a puzzle in her head. "So that…your offer… that wasn't a distraction. That was a proposal."

"You were too young to understand. I was naïve to hope, but you must realize, there had _never been_ a Champion! It was as if the stars aligned and something I had so desperately _wanted_ was suddenly a possibility. You can't blame me for trying."

Her shock gave away to inappropriate laughter. Sarah ran her hands through his hair, kissing his cheeks, mouth, trying to soothe him. "Jareth, I am not laughing at you or the tragedy of our misunderstanding," she felt him soften under her ministrations, "but one day I am going to make you watch '16 and Pregnant' so you can understand my reaction."

"I…don't think I even want to know," he shook his head.

"Look at it this way," she said, "you're getting a much better bargain than you would have 13 years ago."

"I have loved you no matter what," he told her.

"I believe you." Sarah said, equally serious, "but _we_ will be better for me growing up first."

"How did you get to be so insightful, my dear?" Jareth asked, teasing.

"Believe it or not, I had an amazing encounter at 15 that taught me to look at the world in quite a different way," she grinned back.

"My, my, I must congratulate the person responsible for this remarkable influence." he said.

Sarah swatted him on the arm, "You're lucky I have a taste for conceited men."

"I wonder where _that_ came from?" he continued, pulling her legs to straddle him.

"Gods, you are such an _ass!_" she sighed.

"Perhaps, but you love me nonetheless," he teased, trailing fingers up and down her spine. Sarah writhed against him in turn.

"Yes," she gasped, feeling his hardened member push against her, "I do."

oOoOoOoOoOo

Dinner was a much quieter affair that evening. Sarah convinced Jareth to let her arrive after him, and she entered to a room without Breanainn. The three remaining men stood at her entrance and waited until she was seated before the first course arrived. Before they began on the soup, Lord Kristoff raised his glass.

"Lady Sarah, let me humbly apologize on behalf of myself and the Western Plains for the gross discourtesy my son displayed. And please, Lord Jareth, do not hold the distemper of a young man against a kingdom that has so long held treaty with your own." It was the first time Sarah noticed a hint of real fear in the man's eyes.

Sarah remained silent, waiting for Jareth's response. It didn't take a master politician to recognize the advantage they were gaining.

Jareth, in turn, raised his glass, "I appreciate your due diligence in this matter, Lord Kristoff. The Labyrinth understands the follies of youth. However, you can appreciate the… delicate situation this places us in."

Sarah bit the inside of her cheek to avoid smiling. The use of the term "appreciate" rather than "forgive" did not go unnoticed. Now, she just had to make sure she did not give away their advantage to a faux pas.

Lord Kristoff turned his eyes to her, clearly hoping she would follow in Jareth's politically-correct footsteps.

"Let's be clear, Lord Kristoff," she began, her eyes never wavering from his, "what your son did was grossly unacceptable. However, I can tell just from our limited time together that it was not the result of poor upbringing." The gamble paid off as she saw the relief flood into his eyes.

"Rather, I'm afraid, it was the result of shock," Sarah continued, awaiting Kristoff's reaction. It was much more subtle this time, but she could tell she'd struck a nerve. "Let us speak plainly, for a moment. I challenged if he knew about his half-brother living in the province, and his response on the matter was very definite."

Lord Kristoff half rose from his seat, rage etched in every corner of his expression. "What gives you the right –" he hissed before Jareth cut him off.

"You will sit down when Lady Sarah is speaking to you," he spoke in a tone that brooked no argument. "She is my Champion; you will pay her respect or you will traverse the same challenge she did."

Kristoff sat back down without another word. Emboldened, Sarah continued, "I understand how someone as inexperienced as Breanainn could see that as a challenge. I wonder how his mother feels about the subject." At the mention of his wife, Kristoff looked as if she'd stabbed a knife in his gut.

"I thought as much," she continued. "What I would like very much to know is your thoughts on the subject."

At his shocked look, she smirked, "Clearly, you had some plan in mind. Now, I can continue my research to prove the province is properly in Jareth's possession, or you could cut to the chase and tell us what you want."

If she had smacked him across the mouth, Sarah was certain Lord Kristoff could not have looked more shocked. He looked briefly to Jareth, beseeching, but found no aid.

"Much like glamour, one never thinks of the honesty they must expend, am I right?" Jareth grinned before sipping his wine.


End file.
